Personal Narrative †Complications of Becoming a Woman Essay -- Person

Personal Narrative Complications of Becoming a Woman My mother neer told me the complications of becoming a woman in this world. Maybe she thought I was strong enough to figure them step up on my own. Or quite possibly, she couldnt disunite me, because she neer really knew how to example the complications herself.She never told me how to dress a certain way in rank to keep up with the latest fashions. She never told me how to wear my hair in a way that the other girls wouldnt make fun of me for. She never counterbalance told me how to apply makeup to my adolescent face. I dont think she ever knew how to devote it on herself. My mother was always a simple woman. A cross of mascara, a touch of the gloss, and she was done.My mother never told me that being in sleep together does not mean sitting by the boy of your dreams at a high school football game every Friday night. And that the boy of your dreams never really remains the boy of your dreams unless, of course, you dont kn ow any better. How was I mantic to know?She also never said that I would fall in bash over and over again until I met the right one. And when I met the one, chances are he wouldnt be it, and I would have to go finished the whole process again. Mother never told me the process would take weeks, months, or even years. She never told me this would be painful. Because if I knew that falling in screw would eventually hurt so much, I would have probably act at all costs to avoid the pain. It never brought me strength, but has form a callus around my heart.You know this story just as well as I do. I am sure it has happened to you. The characters might have different names, and the setting most likely took place somewhere else, but in the end, its all driven by ... ...etween true love and the deprivation to be loved. I necessary to be loved. I needed to feel loved, so I stuck with him until I realized what I was doing. I had never truly loved him. He was only satisfying my need for security and hope. Once he failed to do this, our relationship could not survive. afterward the relationship ended, it took me a while to learn to trust again. I shew it much easier to trust no one than to fail by trust the wrong person. Over time, I realized I wasnt being honest to myself. I would have to learn to trust in order to permit people back into my life. How else was I to find the one?My mother never told me the complications of becoming a woman in this world. She never told me that its not needfully important to find the one true love in your life. She didnt tell me about the longing, the grieving, or the pain. She didnt have to, I guess.