"Support You Need"

Wedges are an incredible invention for the female foot. If you’re looking for support when it comes to heels then a wedge is your new best friend.

Before I discovered wedges, I thought that my feet had to forever suffer in heels with tiny arches between the platform and heel. You’re already putting all of your weight unto your toes when you wear high heels, specifically your big toes, so the fact that there’s not a lot holding the rest of you up is kind of scary. Talk about no support.

Wedges allow you to rest the arch of your foot more confidently in your shoes. Also, most wedges have more to them to hold your foot in place. I have a huge problem of my feet popping out of heels when I walk, which can be dangerous because you’re pretty high up, so when I wear wedges that have a buckle or weaved straps the fear of the foot pop definitely decreases. Wedges are a little heavier because it’s like a block of wood you’re lifting up every time you take another step, but it’s worth it to be steadier and in less pain.

My mom came up a few weeks ago for my 21^st birthday and we went to the mall together. Like I figured she would, she just handed me cash instead of buying me gifts herself which was completely fine with me!

I wasn’t planning on buying shoes either. For once I didn’t think I needed any since Jake just bought me shoes for my birthday the week before. I told myself to spend my money more wisely on things like a dress to wear to dinner or some yoga pants I’ve needed.

I recently moved into a different room in my house because my friend Danielle moved out. I decided to take her room to be closer to my kitchen, bathroom and friend Melanie. The move went smoothly except for the fact that my box spring to my queen sized mattress couldn’t fit up the stairs, so my mattress is on the floor and also my closet was MAJORLY downsized.

My closet in my old room was literally a walk in closet with three huge racks on the side that I loaded with my shoes. They obviously couldn’t all fit very neatly, but it was still nice to go in there and stand in front of them, seeing them all at once and get to contemplate which ones went with my outfit. There’s no closet in my new room. There is a rack that I can hang my clothes on and a shelf that isn’t even a foot of space between the rack and the ceiling.

I have no where to put my shoes.

I try to line them up on top of the plastic drawers but the clothes knock them down and I can’t even see them. I knew I didn’t want to buy new shoes, and I know it’s shallow, but part of the reason was my itty bitty closet with no room for my shoes.

But my mom and I ended up going to DSW, solely for her. So, I tried to follow her around and avoid my favorite section. I even got the hiccups while there and had to do a handstand in the middle of the store to get rid of them, but it still wasn’t enough of a distraction. And when I saw these puppies, I was in love immediately.

My mom actually pointed them out and told me she’d probably trip and die if she wore them. I took that as a challenge.

“I bet I can walk completely normal in them.”

“Prove it.”

I found my size immediately, since the shoe they put on display is always the smallest size available. I put them on and I was suddenly really tall. My mom wasn’t even around anymore since she had already moved onto the next row where she was trying shoes on. I followed her into the next isle wearing the wedges, carrying my other shoes, the box, my purse and shopping bags. She was sitting on the bench looking down at her feet in new shoes and her eyes went from my wedges up to my face.

“Wow. I can’t believe you can walk in those.”

“Are you really surprised though?”

“Not really, but I couldn’t.”

I told her that they were actually really comfortable. I even made her try them on, which she did. She stood up in them for about five seconds before she decided there was no way and she kicked them off.

I walked up and down the aisles and she did too in the shoes she wanted to buy. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to even buy the wedges. I kind of just wanted to prove to my mom that I could walk in them. But now that I was wearing them, I couldn’t stop.

My mom actually convinced me to buy them.

“You’re going to regret it if you don’t. They look really good on you.”

Sold!

When it comes to support, wedges are the way to go. But when that isn’t enough, I always rely on my mom for support. When she came to visit two weeks ago, it was the first time that I felt like we were equals. More like really good friends than like mother and daughter. Of course, we always have that mother/daughter relationship, but it was the first time in my life that I felt like we connected on a different level.

I felt I could open up more to my mom and be myself. We joked about things that we don’t usually talk about and I found myself revealing things about myself I wasn’t sure I even wanted her to know, which she welcomed without judgment. I wasn’t sure if it was the fact that I’m older now or if it was because we’d spent more time apart but the connection was undeniable and more mature.

I love my mom. Like all parent/child relationships, we’ve had our ups and downs but we’ve always been close. I always went to my mom with every problem, success and funny story growing up, but I used to think when I was older that I wouldn’t need my mom so much.

            But I realized I couldn’t be more wrong. If anything I need my mom even more now. My mom is one of the few people I will call when I’m crying (which is one of my least favorite things to do since I like to wallow in my loneliness when I cry). My mom knows how I deal with heartache; my mom knows what to say to make my stubborn self see a different perspective. It’s not always what I want to hear but she knows I need to hear it.

            

          The other day I was having one of the darkest days I’ve had in a long time. My boyfriend and I had heard news that our friend from home passed away and we went home for a week to attend the services. I found myself questioning everything. What was the meaning of my life? Why do some people die and others don’t? How do we recover? Can we keep someone alive through memories or do those die too? Why am I alive?

            I wallowed for hours in my misery as I cried for the friend we had lost and the pain of our friends and family. I felt helpless and, for once in my life, hopeless. I texted my mom, because I couldn’t bring myself to call her yet.

          

          “I’m having a hard time right now and I think it’s because I’ve been holding everything in all week,” I wrote.

           

          “I wish I was there to give you a hug. It will hit you at different times. Try to keep your mind occupied.”

            

         “I’m trying. I just feel hopeless.”

            

        “Sad, but not hopeless. Never hopeless,” she responded.

           

          A little while after this, I decided to call her. She told me this forcefully, as if she was telling me this was what I needed to do and it wasn’t an option. Suddenly, it wasn’t what I should do, it was what was necessary.

           

         “Take that overwhelming pain and turn it around into something positive,” she said. “Instead of wondering why you’re alive and others aren’t, think about all the things you can do because you’re alive. Think about all the experiences that are coming for you. You have so much to look forward to.”

          

          Slowly, I gained a new outlook. I was seeing the bright side and remembering the good things rather than obsessing about what I can’t control.

            When you’re looking for support when it comes to shoes wedges are where it’s at, but if you’re looking for support when it comes to everything else, don’t deny the power of your mother to make everything seem okay again.