A Word About High Heels

I have been on my feet for over 12 hours, 10 of them I have spent standing up, running around at work, walking from one job to the other, walking home (remember, I have two jobs now). IN HEELS!
On top of it all I was stupid enough not to bring flats to change into after work. Which made my walk home all the more pleasant.

Heels - so innocent looking in the morning. You feel like you can do anything in them. On top of that, they make you look feminine and sexy. It's something to do with the way we walk in heels.
's what I heard...
But come evening, not only do you want to rip off those damn spikes, NO, you want to cut off your feet altogether because they BURN like a mother... And there is no relief once you have taken them off - the shoes not the feet - it feels like you're still wearing them. The pain lingers. It feels like a slow smoldering fire.

It is torture. I mean it all starts out innocent enough. But is that not the way with most things dangerous to your health? There are VARIOUS reasons never to touch or rather wear heels again, from foot deformities to being incapacitated and basically being rendered a Damsel in Distress, precariously balancing across cobble stones, always on the verge of getting those heels stuck somewhere or snapped in two or breaking your ankle.

Yes, yes - I know I am a shallow, silly, foolish woman. I let my vanity get in the way.
All that pain for the ILLUSION of having longer legs, being taller. All that so I can seem a little seductive, a little in need of help and protection, a little more fragile.
I promise you this has ME cringing MORE than you right now. Because, believe me, I am perfectly able to look after myself. I sort out my problems, I know how to use a hammer and a power-drill, I do my own heavy-lifting, I don't have a fit if I break a nail. I get on with it.
That can be intimidating.
Apparently.
So every once in a while I bend over backwards trying to be less intimidating. Every once in a while I put on heels and I lie.
I lie about my height, the lenght of my legs, my posture, my need for protection, my self-dependence.

Usually all it does is get my feet super sore because I am not that good a liar about the rest. And there is only so much you can do about the way you are made in terms of physique and character. Sure, you can keep working at it to bring about change(s). Which would tie in nicely to the discussion of self-awareness and growth. But, that is not what we are here for today.
(Also I feel like I cannot constantly write about personal development and kindness and conscious living because a) I am so flippin' good at it that I would just make you jealous which would be mean and b) I do like to get my meaning across in a covert way, in metaphors, in allegories and therefore, there will be MORE little stories of my little life. The void will then chose just how much I have learned over time. It will never tell me of course. But now and then even the dumbest among us get an inkling, right. So there is indeed hope for the hopeless. And I am strictly speaking of myself here.)

But getting back on track and doing something about the way you look. There is only one thing I can say I believe to be true: If it starts to hurt at some point, either change the look or change yourself. And that all depends on how desperate you are. Sadly, I do get desperate. I AM desperate. I put on heels, I go on diets. I suck in my belly to fit into jeans and dresses and I dye my hair.

In the mornings, like the heels, this idea of changing who you are - even just for a little bit - seems great and promising.
Come night-time, not so much. You just feel sore and depleted. Because basically it's a lie. The heels and the  "new me".

Until the next time, right?