Her “queer impulse,” just like her deafness, is something she had been stifling since she was a young child, yet, even in the face of her sexual experiences, she continually pushes her insistent belief that “lesbianism … was [simply] a passing thing” (90-133). In light of her consecutive breakdowns mid-text, this is ultimately deemed false. “I was bound to come undone,” Galloway writes, referring to both the strain of her hearing guise, as well as her “scarily pent-up sexuality” (103). She notes the crux of her struggles as being in her sophomore year of university, having to spend “three days in the university clinic, crying like a baby” after bursting out into tears during a biology exam for what seemed to be no explicit reason (103). It was at this specific point in time that Galloway admits she gave up one portion of her act. She was going to “make a start,” meaning she would no longer try to pass as hearing in a world where she was clearly struggling (103). However, as the audience is painstakingly aware, Galloway would still be stifling another portion of her person past this sacrifice. In a breakdown that eerily parallels that of her sophomore year, Galloway notes an instance where, after spending a night with another woman, she “started to weep, because … that meant [she] was a lesbian and [she] wasn’t sure [she] had the guts to be one” (134). Galloway’s incessant attempts at denying her self-conceptualization as a deaf, queer individual are met with paralleling breakdowns, forcing her to push past the “protective silence that denied [Galloway her] complexity” to view herself as a multi-faceted human being (101). It is through these realizations that Galloway breaches past one level of her narrated self’s
Her “queer impulse,” just like her deafness, is something she had been stifling since she was a young child, yet, even in the face of her sexual experiences, she continually pushes her insistent belief that “lesbianism … was [simply] a passing thing” (90-133). In light of her consecutive breakdowns mid-text, this is ultimately deemed false. “I was bound to come undone,” Galloway writes, referring to both the strain of her hearing guise, as well as her “scarily pent-up sexuality” (103). She notes the crux of her struggles as being in her sophomore year of university, having to spend “three days in the university clinic, crying like a baby” after bursting out into tears during a biology exam for what seemed to be no explicit reason (103). It was at this specific point in time that Galloway admits she gave up one portion of her act. She was going to “make a start,” meaning she would no longer try to pass as hearing in a world where she was clearly struggling (103). However, as the audience is painstakingly aware, Galloway would still be stifling another portion of her person past this sacrifice. In a breakdown that eerily parallels that of her sophomore year, Galloway notes an instance where, after spending a night with another woman, she “started to weep, because … that meant [she] was a lesbian and [she] wasn’t sure [she] had the guts to be one” (134). Galloway’s incessant attempts at denying her self-conceptualization as a deaf, queer individual are met with paralleling breakdowns, forcing her to push past the “protective silence that denied [Galloway her] complexity” to view herself as a multi-faceted human being (101). It is through these realizations that Galloway breaches past one level of her narrated self’s