Happy Feet

As my days of teenager-hood wind down and I approach the inevitable “Adulthood” I find myself reflecting on the Insecure Teenager I have been for the last seven years. There are so many things that plagued my mind for so long, and I cannot count the ones that pick apart my appearance. My thighs, my stomach, my chin, my weight…the list goes on and on. While I am still learning to accept and love those parts of myself, there is one part of my body that has taken me quite a while to even consider rethinking my dislike.

Warning: It is a very weird thing to be insecure about.

My feet.

Yeah, and you thought this was going to be a post about that penguin movie…I told you it was weird. I really have no idea why I do not like them very much. Up until about the fifth grade, I did not really give them a second thought. Fifth grade stands to be when my depression pushed full throttle at me, and I was obsessed with what other people thought about me. So here is where the story turns around.

I am sure you all know the game Rock, Paper, Scissors. (If you do not know the game, then wow, I am so sorry.) So there is a version of it where both players start with the tips of one foot touching, and their other foot right behind, touching the tip of that foot to the back of their front foot. Does that make sense? Good. The person that wins the round gets to put their front foot behind the back foot, and the loser has to push their front foot forward to touch the other player’s new front foot. It goes on like this, the space getting bigger and bigger. It sounds like a strange way of playing, but if you keep losing it helps with your splits.

Now, how does this all make me hate my feet? Great question. Here is the answer:

One day, my friends and I were playing, and I kept losing (shocker). It got to the point where I was so far in my split that I needed to get down and point my toes (like the gymnast I wanted to be), so I took off my shoe to do just that. I noticed my friends pointing and whispering. It looked like they were referring to my feet.

Honestly, who knows what they were talking about. No one in their right mind would care. Unfortunately, I was not in my right mind, so I analyzed it. And over-analyzed it. What could possibly be wrong with me now?

I decided that it was because my toes are really short, especially compared to my big toe. My big toe (and nail) kind of point upward instead of straight out. I never thought much about it, but after that, I started noticing that nobody else’s toes were anything like mine, not even my family.

Honestly, it should not have mattered. I felt different in every other way, so why not this one? It ate at me. I thought that whenever I wore sandals, or went barefoot, every single person around me was judging them. I refused to wearing anything but sneakers, and I wore socks everywhere if I had to take my shoes off. I was terrified of everyone even looking at my feet. Going to the pool or the beach with my friends scared the crap out of me. Don’t even talk to me about pedicures.

This fear continued to eat away at me until last summer. I work in at gymnastics summer camp. The first summer, wearing only my Converse did not bother me one bit, but a few weeks into the next summer, I wondered why on earth I was suffering in my hot shoes. In July, I bought my first pair of Rainbow flip flops. I TOTALLY LOVE THEM. They are so comfy, and I lived in them for the remainder of the summer. My toes showing bothered me for a bit, but when you are chasing after kids, and kicking off your shoes to demonstrate something on the trampoline, you forget about your insecurities.

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Once I got to school, I could not wear them so much because the amount of walking up and down hills I was doing. I still wore them as often as I could. I mean, the pool and the beach called my name often. Now that it is summer again, I have lived in my Rainbows again. Putting on socks in the heat sounds like the most disgusting thing in the world.

I still look down at my feet during work and wherever else I am, and I scrunch my toes and relax them. I still think they are stubby and awkward just like me! but I do not mind so much.

My little insecurities are noticed by no one but me–for the most part, at least. And anyone who does see them would not dare to comment. Unless they are terrible people. What I have learned is this: I am cute as a button. And so are all of you, of course. My “flaws” make me the way that I am, and I would not trade myself for anything.

And pedicures are wonderful. I mean, my feet totally tickle like mad, but it is kind of fun, I think. I got them (and my nails) done for my vacation, and it was a fantastic experience to be pampered like that after a long, hard day at work.

Of course, I still have many insecurities, but I am learning to love them one at a time. This whole feet thing is a big step in the right direction.

And now you have about a thousand words about one of the weirdest things to be insecure about ever. Funny how such a little thing can change you, huh? But thank you for listening to my random rambles and thoughts. And next week on “My Strange Confession…” Just kidding.

Love y’all ❤

Ashley 🙂


Love me!

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