About Me — De Marie
A Small Town Birthed A Documentarian
I was never a fan of the first day of classes in school.
First day “Ice Breakers” always felt like a personal torture designed with me and all the introverted and shy kids in mind.
“Tell the class your name, where you’re from, and one interesting fact about yourself.”
A dreaded task that always sent me slumping down in my seat, praying that a miracle would happen and I would magically disappear underneath my desk and be overlooked.
Funny enough, this first post feels similar to that but 2024 is the year that I fully push myself out of my comfort zone so here goes.
Hi, I am De but my pen name is De Marie.
I am a poet and photographer by day and a chronic overthinker by night and I am currently trying to not overthink this post.
Born in Montgomery, Alabama in 1996, I believe that my birthplace and what would become my hometown of Marion, Alabama has shaped the history nerd who is currently typing this up today.
Most people know exactly where Montgomery is and its significance in the Civil Rights Movement but many have very little clue about Marion and its powerful history.
Not only is it the birthday place of Coretta Scott King, but it’s where Jimmie Lee Jackson was killed, the young man whose death would inspire the first Selma to Montgomery march on the day that would famously become known as Bloody Sunday.
It is these little facts of history that have also turned me into a storyteller as well as a photographer who strives to document the world and the lives around me daily.
Spending some of my earlier days in the small, rural town and then moving to a nearby college town was a culture shock for a young 5th grader at the time. I didn’t have the tools to verbalize it but I had a pencil and a few sheets of loose-leaf college rule paper, so I did the one thing I knew how to do then.
I wrote.
I released all of my thoughts, sadness, and fears about the sudden move onto those few sheets of paper.
Then I wrote about my first few days at my new school and all the kids who didn’t look like me and how much of an outcast I felt.
I wrote about my first real friend who had moved to town only two weeks after my family did (we are still best friends to this day).
And my writings carried me to middle school and high school.
They got me through my first school-age crushes and heartbreaks.
Writing became my therapy and my God.
Those pieces of paper served as documentation of all the changes I was going through. They were proof that I was here.
I am proud of the young writer I was back then. I am even prouder of the writer I’ve grown to be.
Almost two years ago, I went on to self-publish a poetry collection titled My Muse and it has been one of my greatest accomplishments all thanks to the young kid who taught themself the importance of writing and documenting everything that was happening to them.
Now, here I am, preparing to enter a new realm of writing for myself here on Medium. While it is not my first time on this platform, it will be my first time openly sharing my thoughts, opinions, and insights about myself and the world around me in such a public way.
Much like those first days of classes that plagued my existence growing up, I am terrified yet extremely thrilled by the abundance of possibilities that this site has.
I am sure that I could dive deeper into the intricate details of who I am in this post, but where would the fun in that be if I overshared so much too soon?
So all of this to say, WELCOME!
I welcome you all to my new corner of the internet.
May my profile feel more like a few friends who’ve all gathered around a campfire to swap our stories about this wild thing called life and human existence.
Most importantly, may it feel like home and a safe space for not only myself but also for whoever happens to stop by.
So stop on by and stay a little while.
Cheers.
