Self Reflection Paper

I am a white, heterosexual, middle class female. I am a Christian, and a Lutheran to be exact. I am active and I play sports any chance I can get. I am an Education Assistant at a daycare with a classroom of three year olds, and I am pursuing a degree to become an Elementary School Teacher. I am the only female child, stuck in the middle of an older brother and a younger brother. My primary socializations, my family, are my greatest influences in who I have become today. My first realizations of being a female came when I was six years old. I was home from school and watching TV with my older brother. He ordered me to give him the remote, but I told him, “No” because I was there first. Before I had time to blink, I was thrown to the flood

Although, since I have come to college, I am starting to view myself as a female in a more positive way. Occasionally I will become overly self-conscious and worry about how skinny my waist is, what food I eat, what I say around girls and guys, and even what sports I am playing. Throughout this whole experience of succumbing to the female stereotypes and trying to claw my way out of darkness, I have realized that my main goal is to never allow other girls to feel inferior about themselves simply because they are a woman. I now have more girlfriends than ever before because of the fact that I don’t need a man’s approval to feel like a successful woman, and neither do my

I played soccer, softball, dance, basketball, and, most importantly, volleyball. Volleyball was, and is, my passion. My parents supported me in my sports and took me to all of my practices and came to watch all of my games. They pushed me just the right amount, never overboard. My mother was my emotional rock, and my father was my athletic guru and a simple coach at home. Although, the people that I connected to the most were my teammates. High school volleyball was a time of confusion and anxiety. I was on an emotional, physical, and mental rollercoaster that I could never get off. My junior year of high school was an eye opener for me. I was at practice, doing a warm up drill with the rest of my teammates. I was the last one to finish because defense was not my specialty, and my coach wanted to make it known to everyone that I had to perform my best. She hit ball, after ball, after ball at me. It felt longer and longer each time I had to dive to get each ball. It was one of the last balls that I dove for when my worst nightmare became a reality. I dove and as I was flipping over, my eyes connected with the sophomore girl who would be next in line to take my spot if I did not perform good enough. I came to my feet and I lost my mind for the first time in front of anyone else. I had my first anxiety attack. I ran to the locker room; struggling to breathe and crying uncontrollably. I looked at myself