Growing up I was always surrounded by my mom’s favorite magazines. Family Circle. Woman’s Day. InStyle. ESSENCE. After dinner, before she put us to bed, she would curl up on the couch to enjoy the latest issue of one of them. Magazines brought her so much joy that it inevitably brought me joy. When she was done reading an issue, I would ask her permission to enjoy it as well. The vibrance of the photography and the sophistication of how they explained a topic were all so magical to me.
On the other side, my dad wasn’t much of a magazine kind of guy. Books were his thing. He was always reading or listening to a personal or professional development book. As a kid, those types of books were so boring to me. However, I was always reading. By the time I was in high school, I was equally as fascinated with his types of books. Thanks to my parents, my love for writing was inevitable.