Mone’t Symone

Charlotte, North Carolina isn’t just a city—it’s a living, breathing mixtape. On any given night, you’ll hear the pulse of Soul, the bounce of Afro-beats, the fire of Reggaeton, and classic Hip-Hop and R&B drifting from open doors and car windows. For Mone’t Symone, Charlotte’s musical diversity wasn’t just background noise—it was the soundtrack to her coming-of-age and the foundation for her artistry. “Growing up here, I never felt boxed in,” she says. “Charlotte is a city that lets you be who you are, try new things, and blend the old with the new.”

Mone’t’s earliest musical memories are rooted in the church pews. Sunday mornings weren’t just about singing—they were about feeling. The choir taught her about dynamics and emotion: how to build a song, how to bring a congregation to its feet, and how to pour your whole self into every note. “Church taught me the power of music to move people,” she recalls. “It’s where I learned that music is more than just sound—it’s connection.”

As a teenager, Mone’t found her voice at open-mic nights across the city. These weren’t polished, glitzy showcases—they were raw, unpredictable, and sometimes intimidating. But they were also where she learned to take risks, experiment with her sound, and share her stories. “Charlotte’s indie scene is competitive, but it’s also supportive,” she says. “You have to work for respect, but once you earn it, people root for you.” Juggling two day jobs while gigging and recording at night, Mone’t learned resilience and the value of hustle—qualities that would become essential as she navigated the music industry on her own terms.

Music wasn’t just an escape for Mone’t—it was therapy. Early in her journey, she faced the devastating loss of her father. That pain, along with her experiences as a mental health and domestic violence survivors advocate, became the raw material for her songwriting. “I write about self-worth and healing because I’ve lived it,” she says. “My music is my way of turning pain into something beautiful and hopefully helping others do the same.”

At just 13, Mone’t’s talent caught the attention of industry insiders. She auditioned for Gerald Levert’s Levert Entertainment and was offered an artist development deal—a dream come true for any young singer. But her mother insisted she finish high school first. “At the time, I was crushed,” Mone’t admits. “But looking back, I’m grateful. It gave me time to grow up, to figure out who I was, and to develop at my own pace.” Instead of jumping straight into the industry, she honed her skills through school talent shows, earned a college degree, and learned the nuances of studio work. This slow-burn approach taught her patience and the importance of authenticity—values that still guide her career today.

By 13, Mone’t had access to recording equipment and was already laying down rough cuts of unreleased songs. At 16, she released her first official single, “Diamond.” If she could speak to her younger self, she’d say: “Enjoy the process. Don’t compare your voice to your idols. Trust your pen, and remember that vulnerability is your superpower.” Those early sessions were less about chasing perfection and more about learning to tell her truth—a lesson that continues to resonate in her music.

Mone’t’s musical DNA is a blend of influences from some of the most powerful women in music. Lauryn Hill taught her that hip-hop and soul could be fused with poetry and activism. “Lauryn’s storytelling cadence and her insistence on self-respect in relationships really shaped how I write,” says Mone’t. Erykah Badu’s neo-soul experimentation inspired her to blend singing with spoken word, layering airy harmonies over heavy basslines. India Arie’s emphasis on acoustic instrumentation and affirmations encouraged Mone’t to write lyrics that celebrate self-love and women’s empowerment. “These women showed me that you can be vulnerable and strong at the same time,” she says.

“Reserve Lane” wasn’t just another single—it was a turning point. Written after heartbreak and deep self-reflection, the song is about choosing your own lane and refusing to let anyone else define your worth. “I wrote it after ending a relationship and realizing I needed to reserve space for myself—to heal, set boundaries, and rediscover who I was,” Mone’t explains. The track is both a confession and an anthem: “There’s pain, but there’s also freedom in reclaiming yourself.” She hopes listeners feel validated in stepping away from unhealthy situations and empowered to celebrate their own healing.

“Hennessy” is a masterclass in visual metaphor. The “Your Beat My Movie Award”–winning music video finds Mone’t at a dimly lit bar, pouring shots that symbolize emotional baggage. Scenes flash between her present-day independence and memories of a toxic relationship. In the final shot, she leaves the bottle on the bar and walks out—a powerful image of letting go and choosing healing over numbing pain. “The visuals make the song’s metaphor literal,” Mone’t says. “It’s about how easy it is to get lost in pain, but also how powerful it is to choose yourself.”

For those new to her music, Mone’t recommends starting with “Hennessy” or “Reserve Lane.” “Hennessy” introduces listeners to her smoky, confessional style, while “Reserve Lane” showcases her growth as a songwriter and her ability to turn personal healing into universal anthems. Earlier tracks like “Diamond” and “Addicted” are rooted in classic R&B, while “Move On” (featuring Ajaeze) infuses Afro-fusion energy. “Dirty Dog” (2025) is playful and bold, calling out infidelity over an upbeat groove. “My catalog is like chapters in a diary,” she says. “Each song tells a part of my story.”

Working with Nigerian artist Ajaeze on “Move On” was a standout moment. “We both believe in telling the truth, even when it’s uncomfortable,” Mone’t says. The collaboration was built on mutual respect, laughter, and honest conversations about the meaning behind each lyric. “When there’s real chemistry in the studio, the music just comes alive.”

Music has always been Mone’t’s anchor. She wrote “Reserve Lane” during a period of grief, finding solace in India Arie’s “I Am Light.” “That song reminded me I wasn’t defined by my grief,” she says. Writing her own songs became a form of journaling—a way to process pain and transform it into art. “I hope my music helps others heal the way it helped me.”

Inspired by Beyoncé and Summer Walker, Mone’t strives to be honest about heartache while protecting her peace. “I’ll share my emotions, but I won’t name names or share details that could hurt people I care about,” she says. For her, vulnerability and strength aren’t opposites—they’re two sides of the same coin. “There’s power in admitting you’re hurt, but even more power in choosing to heal.”

Awards and nominations have been both validation and motivation for Mone’t. Winning Best New Artist at the Queen City Awards, Best Solo Performer at Queen City Nerve’s Best in the Nest, and R&B Artist of the Year at the 704 Culture Hip-Hop Awards made her feel seen by her hometown. “These honors gave me the confidence to experiment with new sounds and invest more in my visuals,” she says.

A Mone’t Symone live show is more than just music—it’s an experience. She engages the crowd with call-and-response, shares the stories behind her songs, and isn’t afraid to hit raw, unfiltered notes. “I want people to leave feeling like they saw a piece of their own story in mine,” she says. “If you laugh, cry, or dance, I’ve done my job.”

If her career ended tomorrow, Mone’t would want to be remembered for one thing: “That my music was about loving yourself enough to heal.” Her catalog is a testament to the idea that pain doesn’t have to harden you—it can be the soil for something beautiful.

Looking ahead, Mone’t’s upcoming releases will showcase a more mature, self-assured artist. While the “Hennessy” and “Diamond” era leaned into classic R&B and vulnerability, the next chapter will experiment with neo-soul, Afro-beats, and even jazz. “Dirty Dog” is playful and bold, but new singles will blend that sass with the introspection of “Reserve Lane,” proving she’s not afraid to take risks while staying true to her message.

Mone’t hopes her journey inspires young girls in Charlotte and beyond to believe that you can choose both education and art. “Turning down a big opportunity at 13 didn’t end my dream—it let me grow into it on my own terms,” she says. Her story is one of resilience, authenticity, and commitment to healing. “I want the next generation to know: your timeline is your own, and staying true to yourself is always worth it.”

Discover more and connect with Mone’t Symone: https://linktr.ee/monet.symone

SheIsTrinity is exactly what her name suggests: a multifaceted, evolving woman who refuses to be boxed in. She’s layered—artist, therapist, leader, dreamer—and she’s always in a state of becoming. “I don’t pretend to have it all figured out,” she says. “I’m growing in real-time, learning myself in real-time, and I’ve chosen to own every part of that journey instead of hiding it.”For Trinity, life has been a series of chapters marked by adversity, confusion, reinvention, and constant reflection. But nothing has stopped her from moving forward. “Some people have met different versions of me, and honestly, that’s because I’m always unfolding,” she explains. “SheIsTrinity is a woman with depth, resilience, and a story still being written—and I hold the pen.”Her openness about this ongoing evolution is what makes Trinity so relatable. She doesn’t claim perfection; instead, she invites others to witness her journey as it happens. “I want people to know it’s okay to not have every answer. I’m proof that you can be a work in progress and still be worthy of love, opportunity, and celebration.”

Trinity’s journey is not about a single breakthrough or one big moment. It’s about embracing every chapter—no matter how messy or uncertain. She’s faced loss, disappointment, and the pressure to have it all together, yet she’s learned to honor her process. “I’ve had to reinvent myself so many times. Sometimes you outgrow places, people, or even versions of yourself. That’s not failure; that’s growth.”

For much of her life, Trinity felt the pressure to fit into boxes—especially as a Black woman navigating spaces that weren’t always built for her. “People will try to humble you whenever they can. We have to fight to be seen and beg to be celebrated,” she shares. In college, her ambition and self-belief sometimes made others uncomfortable. “You have to believe in yourself so much that people think you are delusional,” she laughs, “because that’s what it takes.”Being every woman—confident, talented, outspoken—can intimidate people. Trinity knows this firsthand. “I will not be convinced to make myself small for anyone, and I encourage other Black women to do the same because we are the backbone, leaders, and don’t have to accept any less.”She’s keenly aware of the double standards and expectations placed on Black women to shrink themselves, to be less visible, less vocal, less ambitious. “We’re told to be grateful for crumbs, to dim our light, to apologize for being extraordinary. But I refuse. I want young women to see that you can be all of who you are, take up space, and still be soft, loving, and powerful.”

Trinity’s belief in herself isn’t just confidence—it’s survival. “There were times when I was the only one who believed in my dreams. You have to be your own hype woman. You have to pour into yourself when the world is silent. That’s how you keep going.”

Growing up in Dorchester County, Maryland, wasn’t easy. “The odds were stacked against a lot of us,” Trinity recalls. She’s reminded of Robert Frost’s famous line: 'Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference.'Trinity saw firsthand how two people from the same environment could end up on completely different paths. “I remember seeing an acquaintance, one of my peers; we were in the exact same place, dealing with the same environment, and I went on to college, earned two degrees, and built a career as a healer. He later went to jail for life for shooting another one of our classmates. Same starting point, completely different roads.”Dorchester County shaped her by making her resilient, giving her clarity about what she wanted, and teaching her compassion for people’s pasts. “As an artist, it pushed me towards telling real stories. Where I come from, music and the arts were our outlet, our escape, and our way to make something meaningful out of what we didn’t have.”

Her upbringing wasn’t just about overcoming hardship. It gave her a deep sense of empathy and a commitment to using her voice for something bigger. “I want my music to reflect real life—the joy, the pain, the hope, and the grit it takes to keep going.”Trinity’s story is also about gratitude. “I’m grateful for where I come from, even the hard parts. It taught me resilience, compassion, and how to dream beyond my circumstances.”