When I was 26(ish) my boyfriend gave me a beautiful pair of burgundy {can’t say it without thinking ‘ron burgundy’ ha – i digress} ferragamo stiletto heels. They were (are) fucking gorgeous. And I wanted them! In my head I was all like “these heels are gonna make the a real has-her-shit-together kinda woman.” They were perfect.
Only they weren’t.
Because they weren’t “me.”
They never felt comfortable. And I was always baffled by this because they were SO NICE!
Aside from the physical comfort thing – I just never felt comfortable in them because well… I’ve finally come to the conclusion that it’s RARE that I ever feel truly comfortable in sky high heels.
I’m already pretty tall as it is and to be honest I like to have the option to be able to flail around fancy free as I please. And not roll my ankle.
And, well, stiletto heels just don’t allow that part of me to shine. Most heels just don’t allow that part of me to shine.
{And I commend any woman who can be fancy free in heels – I really do!}
I share this because: It feels freaking amazing to be like “heels, don’t need ’em!” Heels are not a crucial part of BEING A WOMAN. Or being a human for that matter. Geez.
Somehow, 26 year old Maggie believed so. And part of me wishes she hadn’t spent so much time TRYING TO FIT IN but then… maybe I wouldn’t be where I am today.
I’ve learned many a lesson in my short time on this planet. One being: I will never (RARELY) spent my well-earned money on a pair of stilettos or any other article of clothing that I believe will “fix me” or make me “fit in” with a certain mold.
And that my friends feels incredible.
(PS. The stilettos are still in my closet and when I’m in a heel-wearing mode I will occasionally rock them. And usually take them off 20 minutes later to replace them with flats of some sort.)
maggie converse 