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Essay on identity development
Personal narratives literary examples
Marcia's theory of identity development
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Her lips sore from faking smiles throughout the day began to sag into her native frown as she got in front of her mirror sighing. Her light, silver-like hair hung loose in ringlets that touched her waist and would bounce with every movement she made. She wore a beautiful mask of creams and color that hid the exhaustion she felt everyday. Her blue eyes, that began to glisten wet with tears as makeup ran down her face leaving black streaks on her cheeks, it’s contrast like a zebra’s stripes. Everyday was a struggle to keep up with all the expectations that lie on her shoulders, the ones from her family, friends, and society. Balancing grades that determined her future, the social life she wanted to maintain yet was so tired of dealing with, and …show more content…
He felt the sun setting, the light loosing it’s strength and he anticipated her return. His pale skin glowed the color of the moon and his movement was swift like the wind as he paced the currently desolate area. The cold chill that brew through the air didn’t faze him, he invited it. The dark flowers, shades of purple, blue, and deep reds bloomed all around him as the moon began to rise and people from the other world began to drift into a slumber. Life stirred in his dark realm making the originally quite place sound almost festive. This is the time of the sprites and fairies to dance in the dark, for the deadly flowers to bask in the moon’s rays; this was the hour of beautiful chaos in a dimension for those with dark souls. Many envied the world of midnight for its beauty and secrecy yet few traveled to it. The blackness called to few and even fewer dared to answer the whispers that chanted their names they fear the hidden evil would taint their souls. Little did they know they already had to be corrupted to hear the shouts that call from the other side. The boy sat on a hill where many gnomes met and greeted each other, stretching their stiff limbs, breathing in the cool air. But the king, he sat directly under the moon waiting for his lover to come and he knew it was only moments away from seeing her shining
“It was a large, beautiful room, rich and picturesque in the soft, dim light which the maid had turned low. She went and stood at an open window and looked out upon the deep tangle of the garden below. All the mystery and witchery of the night seemed to have gathered there amid the perfumes and the dusky and tortuous outlines of flowers and foliage. She was seeking herself and finding herself in just such sweet half-darkness which met her moods. But the voices were not soothing that came to her from the darkness and the sky above and the stars. They jeered and sounded mourning notes without promise, devoid even of hope. She turned back into the room and began to walk to and fro, down its whole length, without stopping, without resting. She carried in her hands a thin handkerchief, which she tore into ribbons, rolled into a ball, and flung from her. Once she stopped, and taking off her wedding ring, flung it upon the carpet. When she saw it lying there she stamped her heel upon it, striving to crush it. But her small boot heel did not make an indenture, not a mark upon the glittering circlet.
“When i was a child i played with my cousin outside, where the lamplight fell upon the group and the singing of the old people rose around us and carries away into the darkness.” the idea of dark and light is a motif throughout this whole story not only showing good versus evil but also knowledge and the lack of knowledge. This also encompasses the traditions of singing and dancing. The elders and the singing bring knowledge which is represented through the lamplight which is singing on the children, who will soon gain the knowledge passed down. “Still, it was early in the morning, and the birds sang out of the shadows.” this is when he is older and the birds are the elders, still singing their traditional songs. This time we is in the light because his grandmother dies, and because he is older. In a way he is coming to realizations and the truth is seeping through. His personal experiences in rainy mountain helped his discover partes of himself, both the playful, happy child, and the mourning adult. The change in setting plays a large role in both aspects of his life, the darkness is bing naive and the sunlight is finally gaining knowledge. This is representative of everyone 's oneself. Each person 's experiences shape who they are. Not only the good but also the bad experiences cause you to learn about your innerself. This causes to you to grow as a person
It was a sunny day with a sweet aroma of blooming tulips. The sunlight glittered on their faces as the breeze rattled the chestnut tree above. There was an occasional giggle as they talked, but there was also a hint of discomfort and awkwardness between them as they peeked at each other’s face and recoiled when the other looked up. When the bell rang twice, I saw them say goodbye and walk away from each other. In the darkness of the crowd, a glimmer flashed into my eyes from Hannah’s cheeks.
Night is dangerous to all people and even in a fort-like hall, warriors sleep with “each man’s kit kept at hand” (1244). However, the morning relieves all endangered men by unveiling all hidden dangers and monsters. “The hall towered, gold-shingled and gabled, and the guest slept in it until the black raven with raucous glee announced Heaven’s joy, and a hurry of brightness overran the shadows” (1799-1803). The morning renders everyone relieved that light returns and casts them into a safe net of luminescence. Day symbolizes safety and reassurance in the book, an important proponent of everyone’s desire to feel secure. Without shouting or making any noise, light awakens the lands, frightens evil, and protects the unsheltered. Darkness hides danger, thieves, and evil in its black cloaks of hidden malice.
The author uses imagery to show when and where the next part of the chapter is taking place to make the reader feel uneasy. The kid that has now awoken by the coldness and not the “footsteps”, which they heared get far away prior to awakening in the woods, then assess the situation. The kid then thinks “By the light of the moon I could see that they were everywhere. I looked at my other foot but was fine, and as a matter of fact so was the rest of me. I didn’t have another scratch on me and I wasn 't even that dirty” (Auerbach). The author makes the reader feel uneasy by making this take place at night which can be told by the moon. Another thing that makes the reader feel uneasy is when the author makes the kid be in the woods and besides them stepping on the thorn they are uninjured or even dirty. The way these sentence are made the reader can see this and feel the uneasiness even more than it already has. Also the fact that the reader knows that this is a kid makes it more uneasy. The imagery used by the author then makes the reader feel uneasy since where and when this is. By “seeing” what the kid sees, and knowing what has been going on in the beginning of this chapter makes this mysterious to where the reader feels
Stars, connecting and reconnecting, endlessly forming different shapes, are the most captivating sight man has ever beheld. One star becomes a bit brighter as another approaches and asks it to dance; the two then waltz across the endless platform of the night sky with only one thing outshining them. The moon sits wistfully on her throne as she watches all the stars clinging to life, for she has no eligible partner. There are times, with many years between, that she dances with the sun, making the world dark as night, and tricking the insects to sing for them in the daylight, but the sun is now resting and the moon is left with only cheerful memories. The moon, with all her mysteries, unceasingly enchants me as she so longingly desires to be like the stars, dancing endlessly in the night.
The patient was more beautiful than she realized. If only she could see it for herself. The color from her dainty face had drained to a sickened green tint and her eyes widened in fear. The walls of the clinic exam room were ordained in calming colors, but offered the young woman no comfort. She continued to blink rapidly as if she would awaken from the nightmare; her long eyelashes could not fan the health worker’s words away. She thought it was harmless, just a night of fun. It made her feel valuable and attractive. Yet being desired now left her alone, crumpling to the floor screaming between sobs and desperately reaching to the empty air around her. She couldn’t grasp any security. Not only did that harmless night of fun result in her becoming
She spends a large portion her life trying to fit in. In early childhood she learned what was “normal” or “beautiful” through pageants, she then tries to match the other girls wealthier clothing style through cheap knock off kmart clothes, furthermore she knows that her pictures up against her house will push her out of the competition because they will not look like the other girls’ professional photos. Until that moment her whole childhood had been a struggle to just fit in, but after she voices her concerns aloud she transitions from an insecure teenager trying to fit in, to a self aware adult who realizes she cannot cover up her upbringing in a low income household in a backwater town, “...where my mother would go on to work in a bathtub factory, and then a glue factory, and then an electrical connectors factory…” (36). She realizes that instead of masking her circumstances to fit in, she needed to accept her background for what it is in order to overcome
She was late to lunch, like usual her teacher from the class before lunch wanted to speak with her. Usually she just wanted to speak with Rebecca about her grades or if she felt like she was doing okay in class. She stopped by the bathroom to freshen up. Rebecca stopped by the mirror, looking at her reflection, her deep brown eyes, short slicked up black hair, and the piercings on her lips and eyebrow. After splashing some water on her face and wiping the water off with a paper towel. Sighing contently, Rebecca turned around. Her eyes widened, her lips parting in shock. Falling to the floor, she inched away from the pale blue, or maybe white, could it be purple figure in front of her. Not only was the pigment of this figure alarming but the person in front of her had deep black holes for eyes and no legs, it wasn’t helping that she could see right past the
An enduring monument to his inadequacy to which he would employ a slumbering retreat. He would wrestle with his body for a brief respite from the perpetual torture that was his insomnia, tossing and turning over every inch of his bed west of the fissure that was once full of love, but never would he attempt to traverse it’s curves and corners for fear of falling into it’s deep, depressive vicinity. He lay there, awake again. His mind a highway of thoughts, only this highway had no lights, no exits, and no colour. He was stood resolute, immovable in the vast sea of movement. Surveying the surroundings that lay before him, he saw only mountainous regions of terrain, casting even more monstrous shadows over him. Each one taller than the last and twice as dark. Some would have the carved faces of past friends, frozen in a state of lament, both in time, and stone. The only solace in the midnight world was a single patch of firm, fresh grass, with a tasteful tartan picnic basket - ribbons and all. Entirely devoid of food, yet still somehow quenching his desires. A single ray of light in an otherwise nefarious expanse, shrouded in atrocities unfit even for the infernal realms of hell. The lighthouse in treacherous waters, guiding him to the reliable shores that are his most vivid and treasured
her complex fascinations with the unrealistic goal of having blue eyes, along with the social pressures she is faced
The door slowly creaks open and a tall, dark figure slips into the room. He leans against the wall and runs his fingers through his wild hair in a vain attempt to straighten it. The man pushes off the wall, slowly walks over to the moonlit piano, and slouches onto the piano bench, his head in his hands. The moon’s beams stream through the gaps in fingers creating lines of light and darkness, giving him the appearance of a prisoner peering out of the bars in a prison cell. Unfortunately, he is a prisoner, bound by the chains in his own heart.
Deep in the valley the Wood Sprites and the Fairies flocked together, trembling in their masses; when all were gathered they embraced each other in a fond farewell, then they began to sing such a melancholy song, dancing and swaying in a hypnotic rhythm; the song carried out across the wood, birds in the trees stopped to listen, their heads on one side, their eyes shining with sorrow and the animals crept from their dens and burrows to watch. The air in the wood was thick with sadness, a fox gave a low mewl, it's ears flattening against it's slender head, a magnificent stag threw back it's head and let out a long roar that rose and mingled with the notes of the song.
Ow. My head hurts. It has been lying against this wall for at least an hour now. I scratched the back of my head to move around my dark, curly hair. It was beginning to feel plastered against my scalp. It was a bit tangled from not brushing it for a day and my fingers did not run through it with ease; nevertheless, it felt good to keep the blood flowing. I was lying on a thin, light blue mat on the floor. My head was propped up against the cold wall as if it were a concrete pillow. My chin dug into my chest and I could feel the soft, warm material from my sleeveless sweater cushioning my jaw. I looked down. I could see the ends of my hair cascading over my shoulders. The red highlights matched quite nicely with my maroon sweater. My arms were folded over my belly and they appeared more pale than usual. My knees were bent, shooting upward like two cliffs. My baggy blue jeans covered the backs of my fake brown leather shoes. ("Christy, let me borrow your pants, the baggy ones with the big pockets. I can hide more stuff in those.")
The silver moon suspends in the velvet sky, glowing dimly. Moonlight travels through the yellowish leaves and sheds on the land. I see the obscure, indistinct shadows of the trees are swaying on the floor letting me have the illusion of thousands of devils dancing slyly in the night, planning some evil trick. The hazy mist surrounds the street making it more mysterious and attractive, and the bright...