Sanctuary Or Cell?

When making this piece, there were two key things that came to mind. The wall for me is one of the most significant aspects of the entire story. We hear about the restrictions from other places, but we rarely hear about the restrictions that the wall has. When we hear of the wall in the story, we may think that it is a way to protect the people, but for me, it’s the opposite. The wall is used as a way to oppress the people of Gilead and to keep them in. It is also meant to serve as a warning of what they can and cannot do. 
I also believe that this scene is one of the key scenes from this story, and definitely one that can be visualized the most often. As it is a very big reveal, and is noticeable throughout the story. So I wanted to make sure that I was picking an important scene, where readers made a big realization, and many made a big connection. 
When I went to draw, I wanted to show how they were being oppressed. That’s why I chose to draw the birds on the outside of the wall, showing that the birds are free while the people inside the walls are not necessarily free. When I drew the hanging people, I wanted to draw them similar to prisoners. Showing how they were hanged to make an example, just as it's done in prison. My main goal with this piece was to showcase how the inside of the wall is basically a prison, and everything that happens within it is just as it would happen in prison. 
The handmaids are drawn in a way to be leaving the scene, while still slowly observing the people hanging from the wall. This is meant to showcase that they know they are in a prison, but they also know that they cannot do anything about it. I believe that this view was very powerful since it showcases how oftentimes humans may know that something is wrong or askew, but they do not have the power to do anything about it.
The eye is one of the ideas I wanted to add to the scene; it is meant to represent how they are always being watched in every situation. Similar to the idea of  “Big Brother” and how he is always watching. I wanted to show how they are always being watched in Gilead by the eye from the sky. Just as there may be “Eyes” anywhere around them, they must always be careful of what they say and do. 
This scene signifies the reality of Gilead; for some, it may be a job, and a place of power, such as how the Commanders could represent the Warden in a prison, while the Angels could represent the prison guards. The handmaids and others would be considered the prisoners; they are kept under strict control. The eye is meant to signify cameras basically, and how they are always being monitored while they are in this prison. This was my main goal behind this piece: I wanted to showcase how Gilead, in all actuality, is just a prison, meant to keep them in, and they will never be free like the birds outside.   

Sanctuary Or Cell?

When making this piece, there were two key things that came to mind. The wall for me is one of the most significant aspects of the entire story. We hear about the restrictions from other places, but we rarely hear about the restrictions that the wall has. When we hear of the wall in the story, we may think that it is a way to protect the people, but for me, it’s the opposite. The wall is used as a way to oppress the people of Gilead and to keep them in. It is also meant to serve as a warning of what they can and cannot do. 
I also believe that this scene is one of the key scenes from this story, and definitely one that can be visualized the most often. As it is a very big reveal, and is noticeable throughout the story. So I wanted to make sure that I was picking an important scene, where readers made a big realization, and many made a big connection. 
When I went to draw, I wanted to show how they were being oppressed. That’s why I chose to draw the birds on the outside of the wall, showing that the birds are free while the people inside the walls are not necessarily free. When I drew the hanging people, I wanted to draw them similar to prisoners. Showing how they were hanged to make an example, just as it's done in prison. My main goal with this piece was to showcase how the inside of the wall is basically a prison, and everything that happens within it is just as it would happen in prison. 
The handmaids are drawn in a way to be leaving the scene, while still slowly observing the people hanging from the wall. This is meant to showcase that they know they are in a prison, but they also know that they cannot do anything about it. I believe that this view was very powerful since it showcases how oftentimes humans may know that something is wrong or askew, but they do not have the power to do anything about it.
The eye is one of the ideas I wanted to add to the scene; it is meant to represent how they are always being watched in every situation. Similar to the idea of  “Big Brother” and how he is always watching. I wanted to show how they are always being watched in Gilead by the eye from the sky. Just as there may be “Eyes” anywhere around them, they must always be careful of what they say and do. 
This scene signifies the reality of Gilead; for some, it may be a job, and a place of power, such as how the Commanders could represent the Warden in a prison, while the Angels could represent the prison guards. The handmaids and others would be considered the prisoners; they are kept under strict control. The eye is meant to signify cameras basically, and how they are always being monitored while they are in this prison. This was my main goal behind this piece: I wanted to showcase how Gilead, in all actuality, is just a prison, meant to keep them in, and they will never be free like the birds outside.   

There’s something quietly powerful about the way Offred and Nick’s relationship unfolds in The Handmaid’s Tale. It’s not loud or dramatic, it’s secret, desperate, and full of constant tension. But it’s also one of the few moments in the novel that actually feels human. What stands out most to me is how their relationship becomes more than just physical—it’s emotional survival like a dependency. It’s rebellion disguised as intimacy.

When Offred says, “I tell him my real name, and feel that therefore I am known” (pg 270),This line shows that In a world where her name has been stripped away and replaced with “Of-Fred,” the smallest act of revealing her true identity becomes revolutionary, a step way far out of her comfort zone. It’s not just a love story, it’s her reclaiming her humanity, one whisper at a time. That moment reminds me of what it’s like to open up to someone and feel truly seen, especially when everything around you feels uncertain or controlled. I’ve had times where I felt boxed in; by expectations, by what I “should” be doing,and the people who made me feel safe enough to just be myself were the ones who helped me breathe again. Offred’s relationship with Nick carries that same sense of relief and exclusivity.

Earlier in the book, she reflects, “I want to be held and told my name. I want to be valued, in ways that I am not; I want to be more than valuable” (pg 112). That line connects deeply to the way people crave genuine connection, not because it’s convenient or transactional, but because it makes them feel alive. In Gilead, every interaction is scripted;the Ceremony, the greetings, the rules. So when Offred chooses to be with Nick, she’s not just breaking the law; she’s breaking out of the system emotionally and giving into her humanity. That’s what makes their connection powerful, it’s not rebellion for the sake of chaos, it’s rebellion for the sake of feeling human again.

I think about that a lot in my own life, the idea of small, private rebellions. For me, it’s not against a government, obviously, but against the routines or expectations that sometimes make life feel mechanical. Such as maintaining a productive but spontaneous schedule to allow for unique experiences and opportunities. There’s something freeing about doing something that’s just for you, something genuine. That’s what Offred’s moments with Nick represent. They’re the cracks in Gilead’s perfect surface, where real emotion seeps through.

Atwood doesn’t romanticize their relationship either. There’s a line where Offred admits, “Neither of us says the word love, not once. It would be tempting fate; it would be romance, bad luck” (pg 272). That makes their relationship feel more real and grounded. They both know what’s at stake, but they still take that risk because the alternative, succumbing to the numbness is far worse. I think that says a lot about what people are willing to risk just to feel connected. Even in my own experiences, the moments that mattered most weren’t the safe ones—they were the ones where I let my guard down and risked being honest, even if it meant things could go wrong. Everyday we must push ourselves slightly out of our comfort zone ensuring that we don’t settle with the next best option.

Another line that stays with me is when Offred describes the feeling of being with Nick as “a small joy, like a promise” (pg 275). It’s the kind of fragile hope that doesn’t need to be spoken out loud. That reminds me of how sometimes, even in stressful or uncertain times, you find little pieces of calm with someone who understands you. It’s that quiet reassurance that you’re still alive, still yourself, even if the world around you feels chaotic. That kind of peace doesn’t erase the fear—it just makes it bearable.

In Gilead, intimacy itself becomes an act of defiance. The government controls everything—language, clothing, even reproduction, but it can’t fully control emotion. By choosing to be with Nick, Offred resists that control. She’s saying, in her own quiet way, that she still belongs to herself. That’s what makes the relationship so meaningful;it’s not about romance in the traditional sense; it’s about ownership of identity. Atwood shows that rebellion doesn’t always look like protest or violence. Sometimes, it looks like a whispered name in the dark. The more I read The Handmaid’s Tale, the more I realize how much of it is about silence and the spaces in between—the blank pages, the words not said. Offred and Nick’s relationship fills some of that silence. It’s one of the few places in the book where we actually feel warmth. Even though it’s dangerous, it’s real. And maybe that’s the point: that even in the most controlled, oppressive environments, the need for love and connection can’t be erased. People will always find a way to feel something real, even if they have to whisper it in the dark.

There’s something quietly powerful about the way Offred and Nick’s relationship unfolds in The Handmaid’s Tale. It’s not loud or dramatic, it’s secret, desperate, and full of constant tension. But it’s also one of the few moments in the novel that actually feels human. What stands out most to me is how their relationship becomes more than just physical—it’s emotional survival like a dependency. It’s rebellion disguised as intimacy.

When Offred says, “I tell him my real name, and feel that therefore I am known” (pg 270),This line shows that In a world where her name has been stripped away and replaced with “Of-Fred,” the smallest act of revealing her true identity becomes revolutionary, a step way far out of her comfort zone. It’s not just a love story, it’s her reclaiming her humanity, one whisper at a time. That moment reminds me of what it’s like to open up to someone and feel truly seen, especially when everything around you feels uncertain or controlled. I’ve had times where I felt boxed in; by expectations, by what I “should” be doing,and the people who made me feel safe enough to just be myself were the ones who helped me breathe again. Offred’s relationship with Nick carries that same sense of relief and exclusivity.

Earlier in the book, she reflects, “I want to be held and told my name. I want to be valued, in ways that I am not; I want to be more than valuable” (pg 112). That line connects deeply to the way people crave genuine connection, not because it’s convenient or transactional, but because it makes them feel alive. In Gilead, every interaction is scripted;the Ceremony, the greetings, the rules. So when Offred chooses to be with Nick, she’s not just breaking the law; she’s breaking out of the system emotionally and giving into her humanity. That’s what makes their connection powerful, it’s not rebellion for the sake of chaos, it’s rebellion for the sake of feeling human again.

I think about that a lot in my own life, the idea of small, private rebellions. For me, it’s not against a government, obviously, but against the routines or expectations that sometimes make life feel mechanical. Such as maintaining a productive but spontaneous schedule to allow for unique experiences and opportunities. There’s something freeing about doing something that’s just for you, something genuine. That’s what Offred’s moments with Nick represent. They’re the cracks in Gilead’s perfect surface, where real emotion seeps through.

Atwood doesn’t romanticize their relationship either. There’s a line where Offred admits, “Neither of us says the word love, not once. It would be tempting fate; it would be romance, bad luck” (pg 272). That makes their relationship feel more real and grounded. They both know what’s at stake, but they still take that risk because the alternative, succumbing to the numbness is far worse. I think that says a lot about what people are willing to risk just to feel connected. Even in my own experiences, the moments that mattered most weren’t the safe ones—they were the ones where I let my guard down and risked being honest, even if it meant things could go wrong. Everyday we must push ourselves slightly out of our comfort zone ensuring that we don’t settle with the next best option.

Another line that stays with me is when Offred describes the feeling of being with Nick as “a small joy, like a promise” (pg 275). It’s the kind of fragile hope that doesn’t need to be spoken out loud. That reminds me of how sometimes, even in stressful or uncertain times, you find little pieces of calm with someone who understands you. It’s that quiet reassurance that you’re still alive, still yourself, even if the world around you feels chaotic. That kind of peace doesn’t erase the fear—it just makes it bearable.

In Gilead, intimacy itself becomes an act of defiance. The government controls everything—language, clothing, even reproduction, but it can’t fully control emotion. By choosing to be with Nick, Offred resists that control. She’s saying, in her own quiet way, that she still belongs to herself. That’s what makes the relationship so meaningful;it’s not about romance in the traditional sense; it’s about ownership of identity. Atwood shows that rebellion doesn’t always look like protest or violence. Sometimes, it looks like a whispered name in the dark. The more I read The Handmaid’s Tale, the more I realize how much of it is about silence and the spaces in between—the blank pages, the words not said. Offred and Nick’s relationship fills some of that silence. It’s one of the few places in the book where we actually feel warmth. Even though it’s dangerous, it’s real. And maybe that’s the point: that even in the most controlled, oppressive environments, the need for love and connection can’t be erased. People will always find a way to feel something real, even if they have to whisper it in the dark.

I spend most of my time playing video games. For me it is not just a hobby it is an environment where I feel the most at ease. I know it isolates me from the outside world, but I choose it anyway. It’s like trading connections for comfort. I do not feel lonely when I play video games rather my heart races, but I do notice how distant I’ve become from everything else. That’s probably why Offred’s Scrabble scene in The Handmaid’s Tale stood out to me. It is a quiet scene that is oddly familiar. In chapter 23, Offred is summoned by the commander, and instead of punishment or a ceremony, he invites her to play a banned board game. It is a quiet break from all the restrictions around her, something she is not supposed to enjoy. Offred’s reaction had a mix of quiet excitement and uncertainty that reminds me of how I feel when I retreat into my own routine. In my case it’s not rebellion, it’s just what feels right to me. Offred’s Life in Gilead is tightly restricted. She’s not allowed to read, write, or speak freely. So when the Commander pulls out a Scrabble board, it’s not just a game, it’s a small crack in the system. Offred described the moment “We play two games. Larynx, I spell. Valence. Quince. Zygote. I hold the glossy counters in my hand… The feeling is voluptuous.” (pg.139.) This last line “The feeling is voluptuous” stood out to me. It’s not just excitement but it’s a kind of focus that drags her in. This reminded me of how I find enjoyment in video games, not loud, but a quiet kind of immersion. Like Offred, I’m not doing anything dramatic. I’m simply choosing something that brings me a sense of engagement, even if it separates me from everything else. What makes the Scrabble scene powerful is how emotionally complex it is. Offred doesn’t know how to feel about the Commander. She thinks to herself, is he being kind, or manipulative? Is this a gift, or another type of control? She’s not sure, and neither am I when I think about my own routines. There are times where I wonder if my habits are helping me or holding me back. I enjoy video games, but I also know it keeps me distant. I’ve gotten used to that distance. It feels normal now, but sometimes I ponder on what I’ve missed. Conversation I didn’t join, people I didn’t reach out to, moments I let pass. It’s not regret, but it’s a kind of awareness. I usually find myself trapped on the internet. When there’s no school, I’ll spend the entire day online. Where there is school„ I come home, finish homework, and go straight back into video games. It’s not accidental I’m purposely isolating myself from the physical world and choosing to connect with the digital one. That’s where I feel most in control. Offred’s internal reactions hold similar ideas. She says,”This is a reconstruction. All of this is a reconstruction.” (pg.134.) That line stood out to me because it shows how uncertain even her own memories and feelings are. She is basically trying to make sense of something that does not fit into rebellion or submission. I relate to this idea not in the same context, but in the way I reflect on my choices. I know what is expected of me socially to go outside and have interaction, to connect, to be present, butI also know what feels natural, which is retreating into the digital world. Even with this awareness, I haven’t changed and I don’t plan to. I still spend most of my time online, and I’ keep doing that even if it will hurt me. I want to be trapped not because I’m giving up, but because it is where I feel most like myse;f. Like Offred, I’m not trying to escape or rebel against the scenario. I’m choosing something that feels real to myself, even if it separates me. Her moment with the Commander does not change her reality, but gives her something to hold onto. That is why this chapter stuck out to me because it showed how something small, like a game, can carry weight. Offred’s Scrabble scene reminded me that meaning can exist in small quiet moments, even ones that feel strange or uncertain. I don’t relate to her world, but I can relate to the way she reacts when she is unsure of what to feel, yet still drawn to something that feels personal. And that;s what video games are for me. They’re not dramatic, they’re just a part of my routine that makes sense to me even if it means being apart from everything else.

Bag of Bones (Mitski): In The Handmaid’s Tale, Offred and all the other Handmaids are used for their bodies, so much so that they become detached from them in a way that I think Mitski articulates very well in the song Bag of Bones. On page 73, Offred is remembering how she used to feel so positively about all the things her body was able to do for her, but says, “Now the flesh arranges itself differently. I’m a cloud, congeled around a central object, the shape of a pear, which is hard and more real than I am and glows red within its translucent wrapping.”. This description made me think about the song Bag of Bones and specifically the lyric, “And after everything’s done and I’m all undone, You can hear my high heels walking on, Clickity-clacking through the night, I’m carrying my bag of bones”. The way Offred describes her body as flesh, unreal, and unfamiliar to her gave me the same feeling as Mitski describing her body as a bag of bones. Her body belongs to Gilead, the Commander, and the Wife, and they’ve undone her. All her body is is a bag of bones that no longer serves her.

The Other Woman (Lana Del Rey): This was one of the first songs I thought of when brainstorming for this project. The song is about a relationship between a married couple and the woman that the husband is cheating with. It shows mostly the perspective of the ‘other woman’, and so it felt like a very direct parallel to the situation in The Handmaid’s Tale when Offred is in a secret relationship with the Commander. In the song, the wife is compared to the other woman, who is seemingly perfect and has all the things the wife doesn’t. One lyric that made me think about the book is: “The other woman keeps fresh-cut flowers in each room.”. On page 81 of the book, Offred observes the embroidered flowers covering Serena Joy’s dress, saying, “Even at her age she still feels the urge to wreath herself in flowers. No use for you, I think at her, my face unmoving, you can’t use them anymore, you’re withered. They’re the genital organs of plants. I read that somewhere once.” In this scene, flowers are a symbol of fertility and are one way in which Offred feels above the Wife, connecting back to ideas of the song. While the Wife has the advantage of class and money, it can’t compare to Offred’s priceless fertility.

Greenlight (Lorde): This song reminds me a lot of the relationship between Offred and the Commander. When Lorde sings, “I know about what you did and I wanna scream the truth, She thinks you love the beach, you’re such a damn liar.” It reminds me of the moment between Offred and the Commander right after their first meeting. “I think about how I could approach the Commander, to kiss him, here alone, and take off his jacket, as if to allow or invite something further, some approach to true love, and put my arms around him and slip the lever out from the sleeve and drive the sharp end into him suddenly, between the ribs,”. Offred feels violent towards him after he asks her to kiss him, but she’s not angry about the kiss; she knows that there are other unspoken things that he wants from her. The game of Scrabble is innocent, but the power dynamic is not. “Those great whites, they have big teeth, hope they bite you,” is another lyric from this song. In this scene, the Commander is the great white shark; he has the power of class and patriarchy over Offred, and she is anxiously aware of this from the start.

Little Freak (Harry Styles): Although this song is about a romantic relationship, I thought it did a good job of capturing the complicated relationship between Offred and her mother. The song describes a relationship where they didn’t seem to understand each other, and mistakes were made, but they still think about each other after they break up. The lyric, “I disrespected you, jumped in feet first, and I landed too hard,” and repetition of, “I’m just thinkin’ about you,” in the chorus show a similar tension to the one between Offred and her mother described on page 122: “We used to fight about that. I am not your justification for existence, I said to her once. I want her back. I want everything back, the way it was.” They didn’t always agree on things, and Offred remembers and regrets the moments she pushed back against her mother. In the end, Offred thinks they are trivial things, and just wants to see her mother again.

How to Disappear (Lana Del Rey): I wanted to include this song because it reminded me of the way Offred forces herself to forget memories from her life before. Sometimes, she wants to fully integrate herself into her Gilead life, while her memories hold her back emotionally. Other times, she feels happy remembering things, like on page 226, as she is remembering the feeling of love, she says, “There is a good deal of comfort in remembering this,”. While part of Offred is convinced that Luke is dead or imprisoned, there is another part of her that believes he is alive and going to save her. The lyric, “As I whisper in your ear, I’m always going to be right here, No one’s going anywhere,” reminds me of this part of her that remembers her love for him, and the comfort it brings her. Part of what keeps her going is the slight possibility that Luke and her daughter are ok, and they will be reunited at the end.

Link to Lit Log Doc, if you want the song links: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1mkGqyHhfewLB0g0v0CDhqVK41hJEtynjZtHsnWB7g9k/edit?usp=sharing

This playlist is specific to Offred; her inner thoughts and life as a handmaid inside The Commander’s house in Gilead. As you listen to the playlist, the musics’ lyrics create the same storyline that Offred tells: an attempt to escape with Luke and their daughter, getting captured, a romance between her and The Commander, and finally a reflection seen as she lies in bed thinking about her past life, more specifically, Luke.

My piece of artwork is a visual representation of the birthing scene, from The Handmaid’s Tale. When first reading the scene something that instantly stood out to me was the heavy description used by Offred. I sought out to create something visually overwhelming, while keeping the piece consistent, mirroring the overstimulating yet repetitive nature of the scene.

When Offred began this scene by detailing the senses, I immediately thought that it would be the perfect scene to represent with a 3D room modeling. On page 123, Offred says, “The smell is of our own flesh, an organic smell.” When reading this, I attributed the word organic to natural, both of which resonate with the color green, which is where I got the idea to make the whole room one color, as smell travels - filling every inch of the room, unable to be escaped. Another quote that backs up my reasoning for the use of the color green comes a bit later in the scene when Offred describes the deep entwinement the women in the room have with one another; “We think we will burst. We grip each other’s hands, we are no longer single.” I was particularly intrigued by the maternal connection between the Handmaidens. Even though Offred and the other women aren’t the ones giving birth, she still describes it as though she can feel nearly everything Janine (the woman who is going through labor) is feeling. This made me begin thinking about said connection and how these women in this scene are being painted as the root of all creation - this birthing scene not only represents a new life but the power shared amongst all of the women responsible for the creation of life. This for me was a further connecting point to the color green, as this maternal connection amongst the room is something natural, and therefore can be represented by this earthy color. Similarly to the effect of the smell in the room, I felt as though the maternal connection also existed everywhere around the room, inescapable.

Lastly, I decided to add a few smaller details to round out my modeling of the scene. I included a crumpled up bloody sheet in the corner, which is mentioned two different times in relation to the description of the room, giving it extra prevalence to me. The sheet not only adds to the overstimulation of the senses - contributing to the smell and visuals - but also represents the beginning of the birth from when the water broke. I also decided to include the tray of juice that is brought by one of the Marthas on page 124. I was particularly interested in the way every one of the Handmaids was involved in the passing of the paper cup. It would have been easy to just skip right to Janine, yet the book made a point to tell the reader that the cup passes down the line of all the women before reaching its intended possessor. I drew a small infinity on the floor surrounding the small tray to emphasize the importance of the connection between these women, and how they rely on energy from each other during this intense moment to get through it.

This section of The Handmaid’s Tale clings to me, like a bruise refusing to fade. It’s the Testifying scene, where Janine stands trembling in front of the other women, forced to recount her assault story, degraded for her experience. The women around her, her so-called sisters, chant in unison: “Her fault, her fault, her fault.” Their words become weapons, rhythmic and rehearsed, slicing through her. This scene reveals how brainwashed the people of Gilead are becoming, how normalized it is to blame women for the things they are victims of. It is drilled into the girls’ minds that guilt is a form of obedience. She refers to Janine as an “example” when she accepts the blame. Swallows it. Although it’s a malicious ritual, it isn’t the cruelty that I can recall in my own life, but the aspect of control.

It horrified me because it felt too close to our world. Atwood writes of a dystopia where women are punished for existing in their own skin, but I’ve seen pieces of that world outside of fiction. I think about the many ways women today are still taught to feel guilty for the way they dress, look, or simply exist. Testifying isn’t as far away as we’d like to think—it’s just disguised in regular, everyday life.

The patterns of the words, “Who led them on?” followed by, “She did, she did, she did,” made me think about how often girls are blamed for things completely out of their control. It’s the same idea showing up in our world, concealed in casual comments: What were you wearing? Did you give him the wrong idea? Did you confuse him? Every one implies the same thing—that the fault is somehow, always yours. I’ve felt that pressure before, to make myself smaller or quieter just to keep my body mine. To avoid conflict, to not provoke anyone. To not be too much.

My whole life, I’ve tried to desensitize myself to sexual comments. Not the ones of initiation, even—but the warnings.

Don’t be distracting to your peers. It will be too tempting for everyone here. Wear a sweater when you leave. Never leave your windows open. Don’t post that, he’ll think less of you. Hide yourself.

Consuming these words from the age of 7, I began to struggle with my loss of control. My body was becoming less and less like mine. It was a topic for others, an invitation to dissect me. And, underneath this erasure of autonomy, my mind began to wander much like Offred’s, creating biases around my own struggles. I found myself more insecure, more jealous. I’d learned to dissect those around me, consuming the toxic patterns I’d been taught.

Offred recalls the girls chanting “Crybaby” at Janine. However, she reveals, “We mean it, which was the bad part.” She acknowledges it’s wrong, but still can’t help but resent Janine. I read this to be how internalized misogyny functions: it teaches women to believe women are less. It begins internally, like a parasite, spreading externally, to how you perceive and understand the world around you.

This idea grows more passive when Offred narrates: “She looked disgusting: weak, squirmy, blotchy, pink, like a newborn mouse. None of us wanted to look like that ever. For a moment, even though we knew what was being done to her, we despised her.”

This lack of empathy Offred has is something I sadly feel myself relate to. She feels disgusted by Janine’s vulnerability, her lack of control over her emotions. It makes her feel out of control, in turn.

Again, I found myself lacking empathy for others due to how I was treated. There were times where I’d comment on my friends’ appearance as a direct result of how it was done to me. At barely 9 years old, I was under the impression that everyone around me was a threat. They had “normal” bodies, but that didn’t mean they got to feel normal, while I felt alienated. I resented how easy it was for them to accept their bodies for what they were. Janine was obedient, and Offred was disgusted by that; but only because she was truly, actually disgusted by herself.

But, through all of this, I consider the impact of accountability. Not in the sense of blaming Janine or anyone else, but in recognizing how deeply these lessons affect us. It’s so easy to see external forces like Gilead and reject them as extreme, but the reality is that smaller versions of these forces exist everywhere.

I resonate with this scene because it forces a confrontation with vulnerability and control, challenging me to see both the systems around me, and how I have unconsciously participated in them. Atwood’s depiction of shame, blame, and internalized misogyny is unnervingly familiar, and that recognition makes it powerful. It reminds me that reclaiming autonomy over my body and my voice isn’t just a personal victory, but a small rebellion against the biases and patterns I’ve absorbed throughout my life.