Everyone has a thing. You know this thing. It’s the thing that makes you feel uncomfortable, often so uncomfortable that you will take extreme measures to alleviate the problem. Some women have a thing with their hips or their thighs. Some people have a thing with their hair. And some have a thing with their boobs. I’ve known people who have gotten boob jobs and hair transplants, and while I am ridden with many, many things myself, I never knew what it was like to have such a terrible thing with one part of my body that I would take such drastic measures.
Then I realized that my thing does not really have to do with my hair, my boobs or anything up there. (Although they could be shinier and rounder, but who doesn’t like shinier and rounder?) No, my thing was with my feet. My very painfully wide, hard to outfit feet.
It did not occur to me for a long time that the reason why all those cute shoes I had in my closet that completed my outfits so well, but simultaneously made me want to fall down and cry, was because of the exaggerated width of my feet. Although I realized it, I didn’t automatically accept it. For a long time, I still squeezed my flippers into tiny shoes made for people with medium width feet. And at night my feet would cry themselves to sleep.
It wasn’t until I heard from a friend how painful her bunion removal surgery was that I started fearing for my feet’s safety. I went to a special shoe store where I found lots of wide width shoes and bought the same pair as the silver-haired grandma next to me. I have worn these comfort shoes for a long time now and had resigned myself to never wearing cute shoes again.
But then I made the mistake of accompanying Nathalie shoe shopping and watched her try on cute shoes on her petite, elf-like feet, and I slipped. I bought two pairs of tiny shoes that I knew would not fit, but that did not matter at the time, because when I wore them, people noticed. “Those are some sassy shoes!” someone might cat call at me in the kitchen at work. My feet would blush, unaccustomed to being in the spotlight but secretly reveling in all the attention they were getting.
At night though, it was a different story. Without anyone around, they would cry to me, begging me to help them. Was it really this or the grandma comfort shoes? Were there no alternatives they cried?
I couldn’t bear to hear their suffering any longer, so I got up, turned on my laptop, and for 5 straight hours, I visited multiple websites promising cute shoes for wide feet. This is a summary of what I saw:
I cried bitter tears that night, wondering at the injustice of it all. Wide feet were feet too, gosh dammit. We deserved to be treated better than getting only the shoes that looked like burrito wraps, didn’t we? I was about to end my search when I found a line called Romantic Soles on Zappos. I spotted a single pair of shoes that looked like normal cute shoes! Was this really true? Could my eyes be playing tricks on me? Before they could disappear, I ordered a pair, and today they arrived!
My new lens makes me so happy I wanted to take pictures of everything in sight. Including my dinner. Look at the greeny greenness of those brussels sprouts! Many more pictures of food and dinners will be coming now because of this. I apologize in advance if looking at pictures of brussels sprouts gets boring. I promise I will try to eat more exciting foods.