We all have one or two people in our lives who feel like home. Who, without any genetic claim or connection, carry a title such as “aunt,” “sister,” “brother,” “uncle,” “mom.” We tag them in during life’s “mosts” – the most heavy, the most exciting, the most confusing, the most awful, the most scary. Wherever they are – and they are often far away – we come to them, our scale wildly out of balance with whatever most is piled on it, and they grab the other side. These people never have to say, “I’ve got you.” It’s understood.
My own life would look very different without the weighted blanket of friendship I’ve found in just a few select people. As a sisterless middle sandwiched between two brothers, female friendship has filled holes I didn’t even know were there – all while teaching me, challenging me, and changing me. I have so much to say about these special people – and I will one day. A blog post is hardly enough space.
For now, I want to share one single story about one person, who has been integral to shaping this new venture, and who, when she got the call about the most crazy idea, simply grabbed the other side.
Sunny Ray – yes, that is her real given name – is indeed, a ray of sunshine. She is art in human form, like God’s palette was the sunshine and his canvas was her signature curly red hair. How apropos that she is also, indeed, an artist. Beyond our shared love of food, the outdoors, blasting 90’s and Y2K’s best songs, and our unabashed love of my dog, Blue, we’re sort of opposites – picture Fred and Ted from P.D. Eastman’s early reading classic, Big Dog…Little Dog. She’s tall. I’m short. She has blue eyes. I’ve got brown. She is always splashed in color. I live in black and white. She’s got the look. Tina Fey doppelganger is the best I can claim (which I do with pride).
I met Sunny during COVID through a professional contract. I was providing consulting services for a company and on paper, she was their graphic designer. My job was to offer communications guidance – write, edit, advise. I worked closely with Sunny and in a really short period, noticed how talented she was, and more importantly, how she was a whole lot more than a graphic designer. She would weigh in on calls, often offering perfect feedback or suggestions punctuated by “I am not the expert in this,” or “I am not the writer,” when she clearly had an intuition for how visuals convey a message. She wasn’t forcing her opinions of how something should look on anyone – she listened, marinated, and the end result was spot on.
She will hate me for this analogy – but Sunny was like 3 different colors of silly putty all squished together into one. You know how you squeeze it all together and massage it in your hand and the end result is one blended, newly colored ball of silly putty (If you don’t get this analogy, forgive me, I am child of the 1980’s, or the 1900’s as my youngest would say – if you have never done this, you should try it…). She was strategist, artist, designer – an impressive and frankly, hard to find, combination starkly contrasted by unnecessary, but disarming humility. After months of working together, I shared candidly with one of the company’s exec team members, “Sunny is the most talented designer I’ve ever worked with.” I meant it then and I still do.
Since our first working relationship, we’ve had many over the last few years now. My respect for her has only grown. She has made me look good in front of clients, we’ve strategized together, she’s been blunt and honest when needed, and she’s thoughtfully taken my business babies under her wing, helping launch them into the world at the right time and in the right way. Like right now – she’s the one in the background taking my most vulnerable professional adventure yet and introducing it to whoever wants to know – and even some who don’t.
While cheering me on, she’s given me and many others lots of reasons to form our own cheering squad – she launched her own business too, doing what I know was terrifying and scary and all-consuming with just her talent and grit. I knew she was going out on her own, but I’ve never seen someone whip out something so polished and curated, so fast. I woke up one morning and, poof, Sun Hip Studio! It’s kind of a big deal.
As far as professional relationships go, it doesn’t really get any better. This is what it means for women to help women – no billboards, no roundtables, no scheduled session (we need those too – don’t get me wrong) – just being there for and through the mosts and grabbing the other side of the scale when things get lopsided.
Now, here’s where I get to share the best part of the story of Sunny – our years of professional respect has now led to a pretty special friendship. The kind that allows two people to sit quietly together in one room. One of us nervously chewing the inside of our lip, eyebrows furrowed, deepening the already prominent forehead crease. The other noticing the dog scratching at the door. The 9yo anxious for attention and a kitchen dance partner. The empty cup that needs refilling – literally and figuratively.
Seeing and being seen in the midst of unscripted breathing is a gift – one that Sunny has given over and over in the years of dreaming and scheming this place into existence.
Yes, Sunny is part of the team – she is our Chief Creative Officer. Steward, no, protector, of our brand. But as you learn more about the place we’re creating, you should know that she is a lot more than that. She has sprinkled her fairy dust in every corner – through belief, laughter, and fierce loyalty. She has linked arms through everything that felt “most” in this whole endeavor, constantly holding me accountable to a vision she could see even when I didn’t have the words to define it and encouraging my animal impressions when she knew I (or she) could use a smile.
She’s my friend, my chosen family – and thank goodness for that, because now, she’s yours too.
-T.Leigh / Founder & Owner