The shoes looked gorgeous in the window.
The idea of wearing the shoes felt delicious.
All her life she had dreamed of having shoes like these, wearing them, how her life
would feel once the shoes were in it. They were perfect.
It was a match made in heaven and finally she had got to a place in her life where
the shoes would be hers.
She tried them on. They rubbed a tiny bit and were a little bit high, but she
thought she could handle it. They were so beautiful, they would stretch and give
- and end up being perfect.
They would get used to her feet.
Everyone said they looked amazing together. She would spend time admiring them. She loved them. Wearing them hurt a bit, but the blisters would stop eventually.
She was in love with the idea of the shoes, but eventually she had to admit her feet
were killing her and there were times when she wanted to wear the shoes so
badly, but she knew that they were too painful. She wore them short distances
instead, and came to understand, that even over those short distances the shoes
did not support her.
Yes the idea of them was good. They were like her drug.
One day the pain became too much and she put them back on the shelf.
She looked at them from time to time.
And sometimes she tried them on. In her mind she dreamed of wearing them - of
dancing in them joyously, being blissfully happy in them. Wishing hard.
Once she wore them to the supermarket, but as soon as she walked in, she knew it was a mistake. She limped home, her heart sore, the disappointment was so great.
They hadn't stretched and given where she had needed them to, they made her teeter
and not feel sure of herself. She realised the little whispers that said ‘No’
were worth listening to, even though they felt like they were trying to steal
They held so much promise and they had so much potential, but the shoes didn't change her life.
Only she could.
She realised that she was looking on the outside for something that she needed to
And that the way she walked was more important than a pair of shoes.
Her feet were what supported her and she should take care where she put them, and
what she put them into.
She invested in putting her best foot forward.
And, walking with heart instead of her mind, she decided to just love where she was
It changed everything. She became love.
The love fitted her better than any pair of shoes, and that love drew new love to
her, new love that honoured her better than trying to squeeze into anything that
didn’t feel right.
Her path was paved with love and bathed in light.
Her feet felt fabulous.
And her heart said 'Yes'.
Deb Wharfe (c) 2013