I hate the attention my feet get. They stopped growing around seventh grade. A geneticist once told me that their stunted growth was due to the unnamed syndrome which also caused my cleft lip and palate. After seventh grade it was game on, people became curious about my feet. I was fielding questions once a week. Then asked, what size shoe did I take, told me my feet were cute, and asked where and how I bought my shoes. The questions still come at me to this day.

To answer all the questions once and for all:

1. I wear size 1 1/2 U.S. children’s, 30 European.

2. Thanks. I don’t want cute feet; I want sexy ones.

3. I, like you, buy my shoes at the store or via Amazon.

4. I go shoe shopping.

 

 

I want to love my feet and what better way than to celebrate them in a blog posts with photos. They get me to where I am going. They allow me to walk, run, play tennis, and have taken me through the first 35 years of a wonderful life journey. In thinking about it, they are sexy. Some poor people have large, bony feet, appearing like the skeletons commonly hung in science classrooms. I can’t help but think of Skeletor, enemy of the super hero, He-Man.

And, yes, you should be jealous if that is the motivation behind the questions and comments you make.

 

This post is one step (pardon the pun), among many, in a more positive direction, toward self-acceptance and away from self-loathing.  I have learned that I cannot change much in this world at all. I can only hope to accept it. I am humbled by my body. It teaches me the patience I need to have with myself and others. All I need do is look down and I am reminded. Ahh! Humility.

I hope to build some esteem, laughs, and joy about those two body parts attached to my ankles. Enjoy the photographs. The feet have been there through thick and thin, getting where I need to go, pushing me through to the next milestone on the journey of life.