My love of words comes from my father who is a storyteller in his own right. There isn’t a time I can remember where he wasn’t reciting poetry or telling some story or the other. My favorite stories are (and will always be) stories from his life and growing up in the country in a family of eleven. Come to think of it, I come from a family of storytellers. As a child, I can remember being at family gatherings, sitting at someone’s feet listening to them tell stories. Laughter would fill the air amid smiling faces. I have heard some of the stories so many times, that I can retell them as if I were there. They are just as heart-warming and entertaining now as they were then. They never get old and I never get tired of hearing them. Many of my family members will recite poetry from memory and where the one will fall short, the other will pick up to help carry it to the end. Thank you family and Daddy!
My love of the written word began thanks to my 6th grade Language Arts teacher, Ms. Rogers. One of our daily tasks was to write one page in a journal. I didn’t know what to write about so, my first journal entry said: “TODAY WAS A GOOD DAY!”, in huge print that covered the entire page. She let me slide with that for about three days. She then encouraged me to write about my feelings.
Feelings?
What are those?
Wait…
I am allowed to have them?
She could have never known, that in that moment, she liberated me! She allowed me to discover self and who I am. From there, I took the reins and never looked back. Thank you Ms. Rogers for freeing me from the bondage of herd mentality and ushering me into individuality!
I have rarely shared the words written inside my journals. Those words are 50 years of me growing in life, in love, in loss and bits of broken beauty. I wanted to find an open forum to share what I have learned in those years and what I am learning now as I traverse the next 50. I am ready to step out in faith and share my experiences, through storytelling, poetry and prose.
There is a commonality of shared experiences that we as human beings go through, no matter our nationality, race, creed or color. However, too often, we suffer alone, hiding our true authentic selves away from the world, in fear of shame or ridicule. I will hide no more and encourage you to do the same.
I want this to be a place where we can share our life experiences without fear of judgment. A place where we are free to simply, BE who we are. I am ready to grow stronger and wiser by peering into the past, participating in the present and peeking into the prospective. I want to share this journey of self-discovery with you!
And so, the journey begins…
Simona A. Brinson
My Life In Word 