If you’re still reading…or, even better, if you’ve come back to my site, I suppose the polite thing to do would be to introduce myself. I’m going to be optimistic-not my usual style-and hope I am connecting with new, soon to be friends and fellow travelers on the journey of life.
My name is Deanna (pronounced DeAnna). I’ve been called Deena, DeAnn, Diana, Diane and many other “D” variations! Usually I don’t correct people, but to be honest it bothers me when someone mangles my name, and I don’t say anything. It feels dishonest. In my 50s now, I am done with the pretense that came with my younger years. I want the truth in my life and in this blog…starting with my name.
I’m an average person, but like most people, complicated. Who I am is a question I still struggle to answer. The facts of me are easier to write. I was born into an average 1950s family with one older sister and two parents. My father’s job required a lot of moving and our family roots were shallow as I grew up. I became a teenage bride (out of choice-not necessity!) and am still married to my husband decades later. After years of infertility, I became an adoptive mom to a beautiful infant baby girl. Except for the first 18 months of my daughter’s life, I have been an elementary school teacher- a job that brought me both joys and challenges over 26 years. I recently retired from my career, my daughter is grown and living out of state, my husband is retired, and I am beginning a new chapter in my life story. In a way, it feels like adolescence all over again. Who am I? What do I want to be when I grow up? Without the distractions of a regular job schedule, I hear the questions in my head. For much of my life I haven’t heard my own voice. The voice of others crowded it out. I was always concerned with making sure I was tuned in to the needs and desires of others. Their needs became my needs, and the lines got blurred somewhere along the way. As I stumble my way into this new chapter, I am confused about many things, but I am clear on one point. I want to find that quiet voice again. The one whose whispers have been drowned out by the shouts of others over the years. My voice. Deanna’s voice.