*godsister, pooh bear, godbrother and me – my grad school graduation celebration – june 2017

 

something i remember vividly from third grade was talking about our families in groups of four to try and map out our family trees.  we were told how to map it out.  everything was making sense at first.  i knew who my mom and dad were.  i knew who their parents and step parents were.  it was all smooth.  then, our teacher told us where to place our siblings.  now, the first definition of sibling is one of two or more individuals having one common parent.  while pooh bear (my little brother, marcus) and i share two parents, i was not sure where to put my godsister (crystal) or godbrother (kent).  there did not seem to be space for them.  i found this to be problematic because in my head and heart, they were just as significant.  i asked my teacher how i could make space for them and she said that was not an option.  i remember my feelings being so hurt because it felt like she was not acknowledging or including some of the most important people in my life.  we were told to finish the rest of the project at home.  this was a blessing in disguise.

 

something my dad always encouraged growing up was being sure i truly understood every word i used and every word that was said to me.  if he was lecturing me, there was a merriam webster dictionary on the table and i would write down words if i was not sure of their meaning, look them up, write down the definition(s) and then use them in a sentence.  when i got home from school that day, i went home and opened that same dictionary and looked up the word sibling.  while the first definition is exactly what i wrote in the previous paragraph, the second definition was one of two or more things related by a common tie or characteristic.

 

bingo!

 

that was all i needed to read to know my argument was valid.  i packed my dictionary and brought it to school the next day.  i showed my teacher and told her i had to include them on my family tree.  their mom is my godmother and my mom is their godmother – my mom even cut my godsister’s umbilical cord.  if that isn’t a connection or common tie, i don’t know what is.  she said between the research i had done and the passion she could sense, there was no way we would not make space for them.  while pooh bear and i might be blood, blood would not make me love my godbrother and godsister any more than i already do.  they are the people who kept me company until pooh bear came along.

 

it was amazing to feel safe because my godbrother served as our protector.  whether it was being sure we were taken care of at summer day camp, cheering us on at our basketball games (where our godmother coached), picking us up from school daily when we were in 4th and 5th grade and never being too cool to help us with our homework or include us in hangouts with his friends – he has been there every step of the way.  one of my favorite things about being back in la full-time is being able to spend quality time with both my godbrother and godsister.  i no longer have fomo when it comes to missing his amazing performances or even something as little as a family dinner.

 

*godsister, me and godbrother circa 1996 (pooh bear was still too mean to pose with more than one person for photos at this point)

 

*me and my godbrother at my birthday dinner this year at true food kitchen – i call him benjamin button because he literally looks younger now than he did five years ago – he is turning 37 in a couple of weeks

 

having a godsister has been like having a built in best friend since birth.  we had coordinated outfits and pajama sets, countless sleepovers, attended the same schools, participated in sports together, went to the same camps, were there for every accomplishment and heartbreak, she moved me into college and has been both my confidant and cheerleader every step of the way.  i know i can tell her anything without fear of judgment.  that is the epitome of unconditional love. i cannot wait to stand beside her as she gets married to the love of her life next month.

 

*my godsister and i – 4th of july 2018

 

i was the only child in my household for five years.  i vividly remember asking for a little brother.  my mom explained that god could bless us with a healthy baby boy or baby girl – all that really mattered was the baby being healthy.  i did not quite understand what she meant because i only planned on praying for a brother so that is what i was expecting.  for those of you that know adult me to be adamant about getting what i want, know that i have been like this since birth, apparently.  when i found out my parents were expecting, i saved my excitement until they told me what they were having.  and that is when pooh bear came along.  he has brightened up my life every single day since april 13th, 1995.

 

*me and pooh bear  october 1995

 

while pooh bear and i are siblings, i believe we make a choice to be best friends.  as we get older, the age gap seems to get smaller and smaller.  i am no longer picking him up from two a day practices, babysitting him and his friends or taking him and his friends to their first strip club.  i now get to have him be my designated driver, have meaningful conversations about life, love & loss and most importantly, watch him thrive.

 

*me and pooh bear – thanksgiving 2018

 

as time has passed, i have added a few more people to that pack.

 

first up was patrick, pooh bear’s very best friend from grammar school.  they were absolutely inseparable and even with patrick moving to oregon when they were starting 8th grade, their bond has remained strong.  they are those type of friends where no matter how much time has passed, they pick up right where they left off.  even though they met in first grade, i actually have known patrick since he was three years old.  watching him grow up has been one of the highlights of my life.

 

 

tj is one of my godbrother and godsister’s little cousins.  since we all spent so much time at one another’s homes, it was always an added bonus when tj was around because he and pooh bear were only a year apart.  tj was an only child so i would try and make a point to include him on sibling outings because as much as i enjoy my time spent alone, i also know that so many of my best memories were with my siblings.  i wanted to be sure he had that same experience.  similar to my relationship with pooh bear and patrick, it feels amazing to be in a space where we are not just siblings, but also the best of friends. we are constantly reminding one another of our worth and pushing each other to be extraordinary.  that is incomparable.

 

*me and tj – june 2017

 

last, but certainly not least, there is sam.  this addition is the one that was the most unexpected but that has changed all of our lives, especially my godsister.  in the very first photo on this post, you see the original four – my godsister, pooh bear, my godbrother and me.  little did we know that the very next day when she was flying home after my graduation, she would meet sam at lax when she landed.  it was a whirlwind romance after that with an engagement that christmas, and next month, a wedding.  what has been so wonderful is how seamlessly both sam and his mother and grandmother have just blended into our family.  my godsister glows more when with him and she is still able to be her most authentic self while in this relationship.  they are truly goals and i am so happy to call him family, especially once they seal the deal next month.

 

*mother’s day 2018 – counterclockwise starting from the bottom left – me, my godsister, my godbrother, sam and pooh bear

 

siblings don’t have to just be people who share a parent or two – i truly believe that siblings similar to friends can be family that you choose.

 

happy national sibling day from me and mine to you and yours!

 

xoxo,

k. tap

 

 

 

 

for those of you who have been following since the beginning, you know i am obsessed with billy chapata.  you can read about one of my favorite quotes from him that i previously blogged about here.  he just has this way of framing ideas in an eloquent way that perfectly capture how i am feeling even when i previously thought of it as something that was completely impossible to articulate.

 

now, i definitely view myself as a work in progress – i think i will feel that way until the day i die.  for some, this might be alarming because the thought might cross your mind that i am never quite finished or complete.  on the contrary, i am grateful to be evolving all the time and growing into a better version of myself. part of that evolving has included a deep evaluation of the relationships i hold closest to my heart, especially ones with family members.  you might remember my post from february where i dove into how your moves will be misunderstood by those not meant to join you on your journey.  in scenario three, i talked about how someone who may not be meant to be on my journey is one of my family members.

 

that was a tough fucking pill to swallow.

 

both family and friends weighed in on what they thought could rectify the relationship.  and what i found interesting was how many people thought that an apology from this particular family member would be the answer.  i heard it over and over again.  “kristin, you deserve an apology.”  but here’s the thing – i knew the likelihood of getting an apology (especially an authentic one) was unlikely.  i also knew that i might drive myself insane if that was my expectation.  so for about a week after my birthday, i processed what was really necessary for my personal healing instead of what was necessary to rectify the relationship that was on the rocks.  and then, i stumbled upon another gem from my boy, billy.

 

 

“there are apologies i am still owed and apologies that will probably never come, but by far, the most important apologies are the ones i owe myself.  for not thinking i was enough, for not thinking i was worthy, for not realizing my magic before.” -billy chapata

 

when i read this quote, i could feel the tears welling up.  the tears were not just for all of the apologies that i owed myself; the tears were also there because i finally felt understood.

 

once i made the decision to apologize to myself for accepting bullshit behavior from someone simply because we share a bloodline, to say i felt lighter would be a gross understatement.

 

and here is what i found: once i made that decision to apologize to myself which began healing i was not even aware i needed, apologies started pouring in from the family member who triggered all of this in the first place.  it is as though they were waiting for me to show them that i value me before they followed suit and showed me just how much they valued me.  why had i previously been waiting for someone else to tell me how valuable my presence is when that is something that comes from within?  if i am not loving and respecting every ounce of me, why would anyone else?

 

i am fucking magical.

 

what apologies do you owe yourself?  i would love to hear about it.

 

xoxo,

k.tap

 

last night, i had a meeting with my seamstress who is creating this gorgeous gown for me for my godsister’s wedding where i am maid of honor.  before we got down to business, we talked at length about our journeys in life (in terms of work) that have led us to where we currently are.  when i tell you this woman is resilient and awe-inspiring, i mean it to my core.  it then made me think more about my own work and how it is more than just a job, it is a career that fulfills me.

 

there are some jobs that i absolutely loved that just weren’t meant to be a career for me – everything from teaching swim lessons and senior citizen water aerobics classes to being the customer relations manager at a car dealership.  i loved that i was doing and the people i was working with but for me, there was something that was missing.  because i knew these jobs were not going to be my longterm career, i did not mind.

 

what i did know is that long term, i needed a job where i felt fulfilled every single day.  i needed a job where i was truly making a difference.  then, i needed to make that job into a career.

 

growing up with two parents in law enforcement, law always intrigued me.  from the time i was five until my junior year of high school, i was determined to be a lawyer.  my dad has his jd and i knew it was a profession i could enjoy while also helping people.  as i got older, i realized that there were aspects of that career path that did not particularly appeal to me and wondered if it would still be doable.  i was still planning on majoring in law in college until i took a psychology class as an elective.  i had the most amazing teacher (who i now get to work with every single day since i work at my old high school as a counselor) and realized psychology was a field that totally captivated me and would allow me to help people.

 

listening is something that has always come naturally to me.  it is also something i have always enjoyed doing.  even as a child, i really took pride in listening to my friends when they had an issue because oftentimes, i knew that i might be the only person they could share with openly without any judgment.  when i realized this was something i could do as an actual career and that it would improve the recipient’s mental and emotional health, i knew i had to become a therapist.

 

fast forward through undergrad, grad school, countless part time jobs and research projects, and here i am – able to give back to an amazing community of young women (mostly of color) and let them know that their feelings matter.   knowing that they feel both heard and understood makes me feel like my presence in their lives matters.  it makes me realize that i have more than just a job.

 

that brings me to my thought of the week:

 

 

“to love what you do and feel that it matters – how could anything be more fun?” -katharine graham

 

i could not think of a better quote to describe how i feel about my career choice daily – even on the days that are absolutely gut wrenching.

 

do you love what you do?  do you feel that it matters?  i would love to hear about it below.

 

xoxo,

k. tap

in trying to decide what to post about in honor of international women’s month, i went back and forth between a few options.  one idea was to feature 31 phenomenal women (who i know personally) and what their presence meant to me; that would be far too lengthy.  one was to pick a famous woman like maya angelou and cover her greatness while highlighting my favorite quotes from her; while maya is my girl, that seemed a bit too predictable.  the last idea was to find a quote that encompassed my experiences as a woman; it is like my classmate from scu, chinae, heard this even with us being close to 400 miles away from one another.

 

 

“one time someone told me i was intimidating and rebecca looked at them and said, ‘is she intimidating or are you intimidated?’ and from that moment on, i refuse to take responsibility for how others react to my presence.”

 

first of all, i am so grateful chinae posted this.  secondly, i tried to find ayanna on twitter but think she has either removed her profile or changed her handle.  third, shout out to whoever this rebecca woman is.  she somehow was able to capture how i feel pretty much daily in a concise enough way to fit into one tweet.

 

okay.  let’s unpack this shit because from where i am standing, there are layers on layers on layers.

 

intimidating is defined by merriam webster as causing a loss of courage or self-confidence: producing feelings of fear or timidity.

 

i felt it necessary to post this definition because in rereading it myself, i realized how it is misused even more frequently than i originally thought.

 

when i think about the number of times i have been called intimidating, it must be over one thousand times.  you might read this and think it is an exaggeration but that is a word i am all too familiar with.

 

over the years, i have tried to figure out all of the reasons i have been called intimidating.  as a child, i was frequently one of the tallest and heaviest kids in my class.  once i switched schools in third grade, i was also one of the only black kids present.  if the interactions between black youth and law enforcement (and the media) has shown us anything, it is that black kids are seen as older and more threatening at a much earlier age than children of other races.  the current president of the united states has multiple children who are adults in their 30s yet in the media, they are still referred to as “just being kids.”  so the first thing about me that is intimidating is something i have absolutely no control over – the color of my skin.  the second thing is my height.  the third thing is my weight.

 

as i got older, i was told that my voice was intimidating.  now if you know me, you know it is rare for me to yell or scream – that just isn’t in my disposition.  my voice has been described as intimidating because of how deep it is.  there is definitely some bass to it.  i have no problem singing along to barry white.  even still, the word intimidating has always felt like a bit of a stretch to me.  but by this point, i had heard it so often that i just rolled with it.

 

once i reached adulthood, there were a whole other host of qualities about me that were referred to as intimidating but the one that i was reminded of the most was (and is) my education.  i have two degrees – a bachelor of science in psychology (with a philosophy minor) and a master of arts in counseling psychology (with a marriage and family therapy emphasis); both are from santa clara university.  whether it was from family friends who would mock me or people in the workplace who would tell me how taken aback people could be by my degrees, after awhile, i realized i was carrying around this small sense of shame.

 

why the actual fuck was i carrying around a small sense of shame for being a bright and beautiful badass plus-sized black woman with a deep voice and two degrees from a prestigious university?

 

while i decided some time ago that this was not my baggage to carry, i never knew exactly how to word why or how that shift occurred.

 

after stumbling upon this quote posted by chinae from this mystery woman, rebecca, i had this aha moment.  i am not intimidating just because someone is intimidated.  me being comfortable in my skin and being unapologetic about said comfort does not stop anyone else from being able to do the exact same thing.

 

so the next time someone calls you intimidating, before you start to retreat, apologize or shift the way you are operating, ask yourself are you the actual cause of someone losing courage or self-confidence or were those issues they were battling long before you stepped on the scene?

 

have you been called intimidating?  if so, why?  i would love to hear more on this topic.

 

while we might be wrapping up international women’s month, on this blog, we will celebrate women today and every other day of the year.

 

xoxo,

k. tap

 

words cannot express how relieved i am that it is finally friday.  typically, i am happy on thursday nights simply because i know the next day is a short work day that trails into the weekend.  last night, i was a little uneasy about how i might be feeling today.

 

today marks 17 years since my uncle squeaky’s death.

 

 

my mom and my uncle pretty much grew up like twins since he was less than a year younger than her.  i was closer to him than any other man in our family, my father included.  you know how you can communicate without words with your best friend, laugh for hours on end and simply feel understood at every turn?  that was my uncle for me.  i often wonder what he would have to say about what i am doing now in life and just about how i turned out as a whole.  i would give anything to have had the opportunity to be friends with him as an adult, especially since he passed just a month after my 12th birthday.

 

every single year, this day feels a bit different and as someone who loves consistency and predictability, not knowing how the day might go is a bit anxiety inducing.

 

i knew the relief was coming both from knowing that i would be spending this afternoon road tripping to vegas with my mom and reuniting with some of my best friends – my work wife, reens and her amazing boyfriend (who is now part of my family), sam.  *random side note: his photography skills are incredible so go give him a follow on the gram.

 

even with me knowing that i would get some quality time with people who truly understand me, love me and have seen me through some of my darkest times, i still dread this day because it is a day where i know i may not have any real control over my emotions.  but guess what?

 

that is more than okay.

 

i have talked before about my bravo reality tv show obsession and one of the shows i watch religiously is real housewives of beverly hills.  about a month ago, lisa rinna said something so profound about grief:

 

“grief is a process that no one teaches you how to go through.”

 

when we are in preschool and kindergarten learning the alphabet, numbers, shapes, colors and about all of the animals, we are soaking up all of that information.  and not to say that information is not important, but rarely is death something that is discussed with children.  i have found in working as a therapist that death is even rarely discussed amongst adults – that is, until someone loses someone close to them.  but here’s my issue with that: it is a little late to start having the discussions about death and grief once a person is already going through it.  i think that is why lisa rinna’s quote really struck a chord with me.

 

as someone who has multiple degrees in psychology, i have not only taken classes on grief, loss and trauma, but i have led grief, loss and trauma therapy groups.  i have seen someone go through every stage of grief and not just the standard five that you often hear about (denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance).  not only are there more stages than this but people (myself included) often circle back to  a stage that perhaps they initially thought had been conquered successfully.

 

today, i reread my uncle’s obituary.  i carry multiple obituaries of loved ones i have lost in my MacBook case in the event that i ever just want to look at photos or read memories about them.  i realized i had not read his since before the holiday season.  i teared up a bit just looking at his smile and thinking about his laugh.  we still have half the day ahead of us so there might be more tears.  i am allowing myself that space.

 

while no one taught me about grief before college, what i have learned is that time does not necessarily heal.  you can have a day that is just as tear filled in year 20 after loss as you had on day one.  i do think that time has allowed me to reflect and deeply appreciate the connection i shared with my uncle.  i have chosen to try and channel his energy as often as i can as he was one of the best and most authentic people i have ever known.  i have learned that no two people experience grief in the same way, even if they have lost the same person.  i would even go as far to say that each person i have personally lost, i have grieved differently.  with grief, i have learned to expect the unexpected.

 

a piece of my heart will always belong to my uncle.

 

what is something you wish someone had told you about grief?  i would love to hear about it.

 

xoxo,

k.tap