My Tears Ricochet

From the girl who has "I still cry a lot" in all of her bios.

Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about crying.

Crying has such a negative connotation but I love it. It’s so cathartic. A good cry leaves me feeling refreshed, renewed, and ready to take on whatever comes next. With the end of the year comes a lot of reflection. For some, it’s reflecting on everything they accomplished. For others, it’s focusing on what they didn’t do in preparation to do better the next year. For me, it’s thinking about all of the reasons that I cried.

This is going to be in no particular order because narrowing this down was hard enough. But putting it into an actual list? Don’t get crazy.

I’m going to start with the obvious. As a member of the DPC (Dead Parents Club), I cry about them often. Because they’re gone. Because I miss them. Because I’m accomplishing so many things that I know they would’ve been proud of. Those are all obvious, right? That’s what I expected to cry about when it came to them this year. To my surprise, some of the reasons have been ridiculous in the best way.

Artie (my brother) and I tried a new breakfast sandwich place in our neighborhood earlier this year, and the sandwich was so good that I wept because I knew that my parents would’ve loved it. When I went to the Barbie Blowout Party, I silently cried in my seat because my dad would’ve had so much fun. He loved a theme and he totally would’ve matched me. When I met Dorinda from The Real Housewives of New York, I sobbed the moment I got home because my mom would’ve been so excited. I wanted to tell her how Dorinda smelled expensive, how warm her hug was, and how she said that I was beautiful. She would’ve especially liked that last part because she’d say “Well, I made you after all.”

Whew. Now that I’ve gotten the DPC stuff out of the way, let’s move on to the next thing.

I spent all of 2023 speaking in public. Who is she? I’m not exaggerating when I say that at some point before or after I always expect to shed a tear. I’m so proud of myself you know? What I never expected was to cry DURING an event. I kid you not, I think about it often. Picture it, you’re on stage, it’s The Bronx Book Festival, you’ve made it through the moderator asking questions, and you did well. You’re proud. Then, it’s Q&A time. You think the questions will be generic, meant for everyone, until someone points directly at you.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

I literally “who me-d” her. For some reason, I hadn’t imagined that I’d say anything compelling enough for anyone to ask me a question personally. I was wrong. She wanted to know how I kept my love of reading while grieving the loss of both of my parents.

My whole “no crying in public” thing went out of the window immediately. It took a beat but once I found my voice, I was telling a plaza of mostly strangers that reading has kept me alive. And what a vulnerable thing to say. Everyone there made sure to tell me that I answered the question so gracefully. And afterward, the woman who asked me the question apologized for making me cry and we ended up having a lovely conversation about grief (as lovely as a conversation about grief can be). But every so often, my brain likes to remind me that I cried in Fordham Plaza on a bookish panel.

Strangers on the internet. That says it all. I did that SO much. I think a lot about the people who I’ve never met, but have sobbed for.

Airports. I cried in airports. I cried at the gates and when I got to my seat on the plane because I couldn’t text my dad. (Wow. I said that I was done with the DPC stuff. Jokes on me I guess.) I cried after saying “See you later” to friends whom I knew I wouldn’t see again for a very long time. I cried watching a bunch of family members reunite at the gate as they prepared to embark on a family vacation that had been postponed multiple times due to Covid. But crying in airports is so cool. In my state of delusion I feel like instead of making me look like a weird sad girl, I looked like a super mysterious girl. And I love that for me.

Books.

This goes without saying. But it still feels important to say. I spent all of 2023 weeping while reading. I found myself sobbing so loudly, my brother would come check on me to see if I was okay. “Oh, it’s because of a book?” I wept because of the beautiful words. Beautiful covers. I sobbed thinking about how much books have changed my life. All of the opportunities that have come my way because of them. I even blurbed one! How cool is that? All of the amazing people that I’ve met. *I’m getting teary-eyed right now* But books AND the bookish community are just so damn cool.

Concerts. I lost my shit at the handful of concerts I went to this summer.

The Eras Tour starts with a countdown. The moment it gets to 10, Lincoln Financial Field is erupting with screams. You can feel it. Then you hear it. “It’s been a long time, coming.” The invisible tape that had been keeping my tear ducts in check chose that exact moment to disappear. I was a mess and Blondie wasn’t even on stage yet. How was I supposed to last for three more hours? I spent the entire time crying. I wish that I was joking. I cried for the version of myself that listened to those Eras as they were coming out. I cried during surprise song o’clock when she mentioned her mom. It was Mother’s Day after all. I cried when it was over and I couldn’t believe that I had witnessed it all. But if you think that I only had leaky eyes at Taylor Swift, you’d be mistaken. If you haven’t noticed by now, I cry a lot. The Renaissance Tour was a cryfest because it felt like home. I was surrounded by the most beautiful people. And much like The Eras Tour, The Renaissance Tour was a safe space to let it all out. I was in awe because how had I managed to see the two most anticipated tours of the year? I think that it was my parents working their heavenly magic. Lastly, my boys. Someone is going to laugh at this. But I know exactly one person who is going to find this very normal. Hi Emily. The Jonas Brothers. Before The Tour was a tour, it was supposed to be two nights only at Yankee Stadium. The two nights happened to fall on my mother’s birthday weekend. So naturally I chose night one. Well, The JoBros ended up having a full-blown tour, meaning I now had a ticket to opening night. I’d seen Nick and Joe while they were solo, but I’d never seen the band together. So did I cry because I living teenaged Tav’s dream? Yes. But Kirk Franklin was there too. Reflecting on those two nights (spoiler alert, Emily invited me to come with her on night two AND THE SEATS WERE ON THE FLOOR) made me realize that seeing Kirk Franklin healed a part of my childhood church trauma.

Disney Dreamlight Valley. How random right? I won’t say too much as I don’t want to spoil the game for people who haven’t made it there yet but I do want to mention one part. When the Fairy Godmother was added, she came with a trigger warning. We were told that this particular part of the story had themes of sadness, loneliness, and anger. It told us to “take care”.

It’s such a small gesture but it was thoughtful. My sad girl heart loved this.

I cried about pajamas. Well not the pajamas themselves but the company. Printfresh has been so good to me in 2023. It may sound silly, but I’m just so appreciative. That team loves me. It’s nice to be loved.

This brings me to the final part. Love. I spent all of 2023 shedding tears over the people that I am so lucky to love. The wonderful kids who never miss an opportunity to remind me that I’m cool. The friends who said “No, we’re family”, and meant it. When people remembered the big days without me having to say it. Every single person who came up to me to tell me that they follow me online. The people who make sure to tell me that they’re proud of me every chance they get. The people who may not say “I love you” with words, but it’s shown in their actions. I’m just so happy that despite having the hardest year of my life, there hasn’t been an absence of love.

I cried a lot more than this, but I don’t want to keep you here forever. Well I do, but I don’t want to come on too strong.

So I’ll end it with this. Hi, my name is Artavia but my friends call me Tav. I hope that you’ll take your shoes off, get comfy, and make yourself at home. I’ll share updates on all things life, books (both mine and others), events, and of course the ramblings in my head. Thank you so much for being here.