My Relationship With Steps

My Relationship With Steps

My sister is five years younger than me. Had she been born a boy, her name would have been Chad Michael Martinez. I can’t even imagine what it would have been like to have a younger brother. It’s always been my sister and me, two girls with girlish dreams and tomboyish ways.

Not too long ago, my mother remarried. Her husband has a son from a previous marriage, and I often forget that this means I now have a stepbrother. Stepbrother—the very word conjures up images of Brady blonde girls and dark-haired boys, only I don’t have to worry about sharing the bathroom with him. It actually feels a little odd acquiring a step-sibling in my adulthood. Not that I don’t have it in me to get along with a step; I know for a fact that I get along really well with steps.

Behold, me at about two years old and then at 17 (heavily made up from an earlier photo shoot):

2-year-old April sitting on the steps outside the family's apartment in Japan, where April's father was based.   17-year-old April sitting on the steps inside the family's 3-story townhome in Spring Valley, California.

You see what I mean? I have this thing with steps.

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One thought on “My Relationship With Steps”

  1. CONGRATULATIONS FROM AN ARTIST POINT OF VIEW, STAIRS ARE VERY INTERESTING; I HAD DRAWN FEW WITH VERY INTERESTRING MEANIGS. KEEP IT GOING
    CARLOS C.

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