The Story of Somebody: A 30-Year Dream Comes True

Most of us will leave this earth with unexpressed and unrealized dreams still inside of us. We will wonder about “what ifs” and wrestle with doubts that hold us back and keep us from doing what we are meant to do. We will let fear lead the way, instead of stepping in the courage required to make our dreams a reality.

But we don’t have to do that.

We can choose another way.

From the time I was a little girl, I’ve loved singing…

In private.

I spent hours in a room by myself, singing along to Mariah Carey, Celine Dion, Sarah McLachlan, Amy Grant, and Shania Twain. When I sang, I felt alive and free.

The idea of performing or singing in front of people paralyzed the shy little girl in me who felt unsure and insecure, wondering whether her voice was good enough.

At church, I softened my voice to a dull whisper. I was so self-conscious about my voice.

I didn’t join the choir at my all-girls high school because you had to audition to get in, and I wasn’t willing to take that risk. It crushed me to sit in the audience for every single one of their concerts, wishing I was up there with them.

For one assignment in my guidance counseling class during my sophomore year, we were asked to write up a list of “occupational daydreams” we’ve had throughout our life and make a list of them in reverse order.

The very first dream job I’d ever had was written at the bottom of the list.

There it was:

The deepest part of me wanted to step into that dream, but fear stood in the way for the longest time.

I took voice lessons my senior year of high school, just to learn how to sing better. My instructor asked me what song I’d be singing at the year-end recital. I let her know, “Oh, I don’t sing in front of people.”

I realized she wasn’t taking no for an answer, so I decided on “Angel” by Sarah McLachlan, you know that depressing song in those heartbreaking ASPCA commercials where the dogs are crying? 

Yeah, that song.

The recital date finally came, and I was dreading my performance. I took the stage to a room full of people I barely knew and my proud and eager parents. The second I started singing, I experienced every singer’s nightmare. It felt like my jaw was locked and like very little sound was coming out. I finished the song, but I couldn’t wait for it to be over, for the last haunting note to float away.

It was not my Mariah Carey moment.

I silenced a very vibrant and authentic part of myself...again. I could feel the pain of not letting myself be as free as I was when I was alone in my living room.

Then, I went off to college. My sophomore year, I joined the Gospel Choir because of how much fun I had at their concerts and because there were no auditions (the reason I avoided choir in high school).

After spending a semester abroad in southern Spain, I came home transformed and emboldened. I tried out for my first gospel choir solo, and I got it! Since then, over the past 20 years or so, I’ve made gradual moves to step into my voice. I’ve sung as part of the music team at church, shared singing videos on LinkedIn, and even sung with the band at my best friend’s wedding.

Two years ago, I started taking weekly voice lessons again, this time virtually.

But I never seriously pursued making my own music, mainly because I don’t read music or play any instruments, and I didn’t know how the songwriting process worked. It felt out of reach for me.

Then, this summer, I was nudged by a coach named Shay to start recording music videos of me singing covers and doing it in a studio. That felt intimidating, too. So I reached out to a guy I go to church with who had just started his own music production company. I told him I wanted to record some covers. 

He had different plans...

The night before our first session, my husband and I watched a documentary called “Bully,” which details the stories of several young kids who were so badly bullied that several of them died by suicide. The pain was too great. Some of their parents became activists on a mission to bring attention to mental health and suicide prevention. Kirk Smalley lost his 11-year-old son, Ty, to suicide on May 13, 2010, and stared the nonprofit, Stand for the Silent, with his late wife Laura. At one of their events, they gave people silicone bracelets with the words:

“I AM SOMEBODY” written on them.

As my producer, Leroy, and I sat down the next morning to map out the idea for my first original song, he asked what I wanted to write the song about.

“I want to write a song about being Somebody,” I told him.

For most of my life, there has been an underlying desire to prove, earn or achieve my way into being seen as Somebody. So many of us feel that way. 

We doubt whether who we are is “enough” to be worthy of love and acceptance. 

We feel pressure and expectations mounting within us and outside of us, and we feel weighed down by the weight of it all. Sometimes it feels like too much to handle.

I wrote the song to my 9-year-old self who needed to know she was Somebody who mattered; “enough” just as she was. We still need that reminder as adults. What all of us want more than anything is to feel like we matter, like we are Somebody of worth and value in the world.

The song starts with the messages I was telling myself as a little girl, that I still carry with me as an adult sometimes:

No mistakes

Know the rules

Be the best

And cover up your wounds

I wanted her to know I could see all of the expectations she was trying to meet and manage, and how exhausting that must have been.

I wanted to remind her to “take a breath and just be.” To know that she’s “not on the clock” and doesn’t have to impress anyone.

But most of all, I wanted her to release the need to prove she was worthy, to believe she was Somebody…already.

Five months after starting on the song, it was released into the world on all major music streaming platforms on January 26, 2023. 

I’ve been overwhelmed by the response to the song and moved by how much it has positively impacted the people who have listened to it. They’ve shared that it’s made them cry, given them chills, and been a source of hope, validation and healing. To know that it’s already been heard thousands of times within a month of its release, speaking truth and encouragement to people who need, it is humbling.

My dad, someone who always made me feel like a Somebody growing up, has been one of my biggest supporters. He texts me every day to update me with the song’s YouTube view count. The morning the song was released, he texted me this:

“There you were on Pandora this morning. Follow your dreams peanut. Love you so much. It made me cry. So proud of you.”

I’m going to keep following my dream to be a singer.

I’m already working on song two and just got an idea for song three the other day.

This is just the beginning of writing and releasing message-driven music, so stay tuned for what’s to come!

You can listen to “Somebody” wherever you stream music and check it out here on YouTube:

If you want to share the song with a Somebody in your life, use this link: https://song.link/somebody-rachel

And whenever you start to doubt yourself or your worth, remember this:

YOU are Somebody.

You matter.

And you are enough.