Who Am I
Well, I might as well just jump in! I’ve been sitting here typing, backspacing, and retyping for a few hours now. How do I want this to look? If I'm going to do anything, then I'm going to be authentic, mistakes and all. I just need to be myself, yet I surely don’t want to look foolish or uneducated. But by today’s standards, I guess I am uneducated and trying to navigate through establishing my Substack on this forum has me doubting myself already.
I received my GED at 26 years old. I worked hard to support myself and my children, obtain a mortgage and land a good paying job at the local aluminum plant. Not bad for a high school dropout, married mother at 16. Life has been difficult at times, yet I’m blessed to have gone through the struggles that made me who I am. Some of those difficulties were of my own making, others were not. Both made me strive to be better than my circumstances.
Now I find myself nearing the closing chapter of my life. With disease making ordinary tasks difficult, I decided to dive into the “norm” of online media. Although it's far from normal for me. Besides Facebook posts, some writer’s forum, that I barely remember, and a try at a blog back when Free Realms was still an active online game, I am totally clueless.
So, in an attempt to keep a promise to myself, I attempt again to put my creations out into the abyss. Maybe my girls and grandsons will look back someday and say, “she never gave up, and she faced those things that she feared”.
I will share my poetry, short stories, ponderings and if I can figure out how, my artwork and songs, I have created. If they can bring a smile, comfort or urge someone to struggle past the pain of despair, then I can say maybe, just maybe I made a difference before I leave this world.
“Who Am I”
Who am I, can't you see Am I all I thought I'd be
A reflection of what I believe
A reflection of things done to me
Listen close now, as I list Some things, that are obvious
I'm a daughter, though dad is gone
A Caretaker, to do for mom
A sister, the baby of the family
The only girl…. oh, lucky me
I'm a mother, who's doubly blessed Twice divorced though, I must confess
A child of God, who longs to be At peace with him, for eternity
I'm a writer, who's truth be told Was afraid at being bold
Who am I, I’m no better than you But we judge, don’t we…. Isn't that true
I am me; life is my goal
The rest, a journey, of my soul
🥰💕Thank you
Dear Debbie,
Your words about your motivation to publish and create on Substack resonate deeply with me. The honesty and vulnerability you express in your desire to bring a smile, comfort, or hope to someone in pain reflect a soul committed to the well-being of others. Through your poetry, stories, artwork, and songs, you not only reveal your own heart but also extend a hand to those searching for light in the darkness.
You said, “Maybe, just maybe, I made a difference before I leave this world.” I want you to know that you already have. Every word, every image, and every melody you share ripples outward, touching hearts like mine. You make a difference not in grand gestures but in the quiet, profound ways you inspire and uplift.
Thank you for daring to share so much of yourself with the world. It’s a gift that continues to remind me—and I’m sure so many others—that even the smallest light can guide someone home.
With appreciation and admiration,
Matthew