Growing up with my mom being a teacher, I became accustomed to meeting her student teachers each year. I was never close with any of them. Quite frankly, they terrified me for some reason, and I would try to avoid contact at all costs.
In 2013, I went to one of the school events my mom was hosting and met that year’s student teacher: Nicole. When my brother and I were introduced to her, she terrified me more than any of the others I had met over the years.Â
When I found out she had volunteered to babysit us one night after our sitter canceled, I was not happy at all. In fact, I think I tried to avoid her the entire night.Â
Now, 12 years later, she is the big sister I never had.
After that first night, my parents quickly realized she was one of the only babysitters we’d had who could handle the difficult child my brother was at the time. So, she became our regular sitter, and as time passed, she quickly became mine and my brother’s favorite person.
Nicole wasn’t just a babysitter; she was someone who showed up for every milestone, like teaching me how to drive, coming to my graduation, and being at every family dinner or celebration. Over the years, she became part of our family in every sense of the word. My brother and I were 2 of the only kids at her wedding, besides her husband’s nephew, and it meant the world to us.Â
There’s a series of pictures you see right when you walk into Nicole’s house, and it always makes me smile to see my brother and me right up there next to her sister and her husband’s nephew. It’s always felt so natural. She’s always welcome in our house, and we’re always welcome in hers. There’s no formality, no need for an invitation, just an open-door policy we happily abuse.
Nicole has always been one of the most kindhearted souls I have ever met. Each year, no matter how busy she is, she makes sure to set aside time to paint pumpkins and watch Hocus Pocus with us, a tradition she started eleven years ago that’s still going strong.Â
I am so incredibly grateful that I have been able to make lifelong memories with her, from swimming and running around her parents’ backyard during the summers and our weekly Pizza Hut excursions when I was younger, to last year when she surprised me with floor tickets to The Eras Tour.
Now that I’m older, I realize how lucky I am to have someone like her in my life. She’s the person I go to for advice that’s both honest and kind, the one who celebrates my wins, comforts me when things fall apart, and isn’t scared to tell me the cold, hard truth. She’s proof that sometimes family isn’t just about who you share genetics with.
Having her in my life has taught me that connections don’t have to fit a traditional mold to be real. You can meet someone through pure chance, like your mom’s scary student teacher, and end up with a lifelong older sister who changes the way you see love, family, and friendship.