Kiki Pape

I’ve always struggled with the phrase, “It’s okay not to feel okay.” It felt unfinished. What happens after we say that? What tools do we give people when “not okay” isn’t a moment—but a pattern?

Many people don’t believe it when they meet me now, but growing up, I was the quiet one. The kid hiding behind her mom’s legs. The one pulled out of class because her feelings were too big to hold and too hard to name.

Writing was one of my first tools. Even when I couldn’t say what I was feeling, I could write it. But just as helpful was my dog, Abby. Her quiet loyalty, sassy energy, and the wag of her tail reminded me I wasn’t alone.

The earliest version of The Worry Wags started at the same school where I met my now-illustrator, Ellyana Wills. We were just two kids making up stories, and one of them was Abby and the Magic Tail.

In college at the University of Colorado Boulder, I picked that story back up. Life was loud, fast, and heavy. I’d already been through the fire of adolescence—trying to balance identity, expectations, and anxiety. What I craved most was support that didn’t feel clinical or cold. I wanted something soft and creative. Something that could speak for the kids who didn’t always know what to say.

So, I wrote again. But this time, I wrote with a mission: to give kids and their caregivers something that felt comforting, imaginative, and real. I wanted to create a story that didn’t just talk about anxiety—but offered real tools to move through it, together.

My parents, my brother, and so many friends helped me find language for feelings that once felt unnameable. They reminded me healing doesn’t happen alone—it happens in connection.

I’m no expert. I’m just someone who grew up with big feelings and found her voice in the middle of them. And now, I hope The Worry Wags helps someone else feel seen, supported, and a little more okay.