2 introduction
affects my entire worldview and is directly related to feelings of empow-
erment or powerlessness.
For example, most recently I have been participating in some
important meetings at work. Early on in one of them, I realized that
when surrounded by scholarly men who appear to be older than I am,
I started to feel like an eight-year-old girl and became intimidated
to the point of paralyzed silence. Indeed, I felt like an idiot and was
terrified to voice any opinion. After the first meeting, I shared these
realizations with female colleagues, who, although they expressed dis-
similar feelings, were most understanding and accepting of mine. At
following meetings in the days ahead, with awareness of my emotional
issues attuned and available, I was able to overcome my discomfort
and thus participate, making contributions that were professional and
productive.
Where do I begin to think about how I developed my identity as
a woman? I start with thinking about how significant adults in my life
influenced my development in my earliest years and helped me shape my
identity as a woman.
UnderstandinG the Male inFlUences
in My liFe
My father was fifty-five when I was born. Growing up I experienced
him as an old man, a grandfather-type figure. He was quiet and gentle
and laughed nervously. He has been dead for over twenty-five years and
yet on Father’s Day I often think about him. My parents divorced when
I was four and from then on until I left home at eighteen, I lived with
my mother and stepfather, visiting my father on weekends and some-
times taking a short trip or vacation together. My stepfather commu-
nicated with me mainly through teasing and joking. His relationship
with my mother was volatile and passionate. I did not think of him as a
father figure, but rather was afraid to bother him with my presence. For
example, he would constantly tease me about how much I ate or talked.
I felt trivialized and small with him. Neither man was a role model or
father figure for me.
And so, I chose my brother. Although he was only six years older
than I was, my mother adored him, and I decided, very early on, that
it was wise to adore whatever or whomever she adored. It just made
life easier somehow, or so I thought. He became for me the epitome of