I am Leigha Nortier. Some days I know who that is but other days I can barely comprehend who this woman is. I only know pieces of my past and even the hints, as to who I supposedly am, confuse me. This once tied me down. Now I use my blank slate as a gift. Now more than ever I can create who I am and who I want to be. The mistakes my parents made cannot dominate my present. I am committed to utilizing every moment in my life as an opportunity to tell both myself and those around me who I am and who I am working to become tomorrow.

I am courageous. Not always as mucas I would like to be, but nonetheless, courage is what makes my lonely moments not so lonely. I am a woman and therefore a feminist (duh). I am a learner, and accept that I always will be. And finally, I am fluid; I can change and accept change whenever I need.

5 Comments on “Leigha”

  1. I love the way your photo interacts with your words–the cropping of your face, showing only half, allows us to imagine countless other halves and your wavy hair suggests your fluidity of self. I’m glad you’re an unapologetic feminist–I am too. But I don’t think woman = feminist. Even Mina Loy, who wrote a Feminist Manifesto, distanced herself from a term that means different things to different people in different contexts. What’s your definition? Mine is that feminism affirms that all people deserve equal social, political, and economic rights, regardless of the gender they’ve been assigned, and that principle extends to other intersectional categories of race, class, ability etc… Equality doesn’t mean sameness, however, and “my” feminism means accepting and respecting our differences.

  2. The idea of “hints” of who we are is pretty fascinating. Where do these hints come from? From patterns, from ourselves, from others, or from none of these things? One thing that seemed interesting to me was that your fluidity of identity itself is a strong trait within your identity. It’s almost paradoxical, but simultaneously logical–like when someone’s greatest strength is their weakness, or when someone says to “expect the unexpected.”

  3. Hey! I love your assessment of your own courage. It’s really beautiful and inspiring! I wish I could be more courageous. Are you a Gryffindor? Also, I love how your second paragraph is aligned right. The way it is lined up with your photo makes it look like the words are mirroring your face. It has quite a nice effect!

  4. I admire your courage (to steal Sarah’s word) throughout this post, and your last sentence in particular: “And finally, I am fluid; I can change and accept change whenever I need.” I’ve been trying to accept my own capacity for and need to change for a while now, and I admire the way you embrace change in yourself. We all move and leave things behind or pick up new things, and that’s ok. To be comfortable with that is no small thing 🙂

  5. Maybe you’re not always as courageous as you’d like to be, but I think the ability to not just accept change, but face it head on and know you can accept it is incredibly brave. I also really admire your commitment to defining–and redefining–yourself. Some days I think its so easy to let ourselves be defined by other people and things. Friends, relationship status, GPA, how often we go out on weekends, what other people think of us, and, of course, our pasts. I think it is wonderful that you are actively combating that and owning yourself.

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