My Feet Refused
For years, I thought this was a problem. My inability to fit my feet into the kinds of shoes that felt fun and sexy and stylish, that is.
Hello Courageous Thrivers,
I want to tell you a couple of stories about my problem rebellious feet and what they taught me about misplaced blame and being fully myself.
PROBLEM FEET SHORT STORY #1
I was walking in the woods the other day wearing my toe socks and foot-shaped shoes that allow my feet to operate as feet we’re made to do—which feels so amazing that I can hardly bring myself to wear “regular” socks let alone shoes that pinch my toes together—and I remembered how for so many years I’ve believed that my feet were a problem, a defect, you might say.
Even when I was a little girl my feet required special trips to faraway cities to find shoes for girls that came in wide widths.
And my arches hurt so much most of the time that I remember looking for rocks just the right size to step on so they’d support the middle of my foot for a moment, giving me temporary relief from the pain. Eventually I got special orthotics, which helped some, but left me with even more limited alternatives for shoes that fit.
Needless to say, sexy heels were not an option for me, except, perhaps for a very brief walk from car to dinner table and back again.
For years, I though this was a problem. My inability to fit my feet into the kinds of shoes that felt fun and sexy and stylish, that is.
Plus the pain my feet caused me when walking, which is one of my favorite things to do.
“I have problem feet,” I’d say.
PROBLEM FEET SHORT STORY #2
In 1998 when I was working as a stay-at-home mother of a toddler, I started experiencing a new kind of pain in my right foot when I walked, more on the top of the foot instead of in the arch.
I went to the doctor. They took X-rays. They asked me if I had been running a lot. “No,” I said. Any other increase in activity that might cause a stress fracture. “No,” I said. They diagnosed me with a stress fracture anyway and sent me home in a boot.
For three weeks I sat around with my foot up as often as I could with a toddler in the house. I wore the boot as prescribed. My foot got worse.
I called the doctor’s office multiple times. He never once spoke to me. His staff kept telling me to wait for my next appointment. Problem patient, they probably thought.
Being the well-trained good girl that I am, I did not cause any more trouble.
I waited until my next appointment to speak to the doctor, at which point they told me I needed to have surgery immediately because most of my second metatarsal was gone. A tumor.
The stress fracture diagnosis was incorrect. The doctor’s choice to ignore my concerns was injudicious.
Thankfully, the tumor was not cancerous and the surgery was fairly successful. The surgeon told me it was such a minor thing, that I didn’t need physical therapy, showing poor judgement yet again, which would result in even more foot pain for years to come.
Problem feet? Maybe.
A problematic medical system and a couple arrogant male doctors who dismissed my wisdom about what was happening in my body and denied the foot’s need for support to heal well. Definitely.
PROBLEM FEET SHORT STORY #3
After a few years of increasing foot pain and following more unhelpful advice from varied podiatrists, I read about a woman who was using a 3-D printer to create shoes for women and girls that actually supported foot health.
I got some and started running and walking in them. After several months of doing so, my arch pain improved.
The pain I experienced from the neuroma that had developed in my right foot after my surgery became more tolerable.
A few years later a massage therapist started working on getting my big toe to move more freely.
What do you know?
With the right supports, my “problem” feet began healing themselves.
My feet are not designed to fit into small, uncomfortable spaces deemed suitable for good girls.
PROBLEM FEET SHORT STORY #4
For my birthday a couple of weeks ago one of my sons gave me a new pair of shoes. He has a keen eye for design and style, and these shoes reflect that.
And guess what else? They’re “barefoot shoes” — flexible and wide so the foot can move naturally in them, minimal cushioning, just enough to make walking on city sidewalks tolerable. Stylish with room for my feet to be who they are.
Which leads me back to my walk in the woods and the thought that became the title of this post. “My feet refused. I thought that was a problem.”
I don’t think so anymore.
Here’s what I think now.
My feet are not a problem. They are guides on a path to freedom.
My feet have communicated to me for most of my life that I am not meant to fit into the small, uncomfortable spaces that are designated as suitable for good girls and women within patriarchy. (Nor are any of us).
They have shown me that I need to respect my body as part of nature, designed to function in connection with the Earth, designed to move, designed to be able to respond.
They have shown me that my Inner Wisdom is a valid source of knowing, not that there isn’t also wisdom in Western medicine, but I need to advocate for my knowing to be part of what is taken into consideration when it’s my healing and health on the line. I am responsible to advocate for myself.
They have shown me that being high maintenance isn’t the same thing as being inherently wrong or problematic.
And perhaps most importantly, they have taken me on many, many walks in the woods, where my soul finds deep nourishment, my heart speaks, and my mind and body let go of the constraints that are meant to keep me small and uncomfortable.
PROBLEM FEET SHORT STORY #5: YOURS?
I am deeply grateful to The Feet That Refused.
Can you relate? Is there a part of you (body, personality, culture, circumstances) that you thought was a problem, but have discovered to be a wise guide?