Wear the Shoes, You're Beautiful

So if you know me well enough, you know that I have a shoe obsession. A pretty bad ass collection if I must say so myself.

If you're not a member of my family and therefore not obligated to read my blog, first off let me thank you for taking the time to read this, you sweet sweet person. Secondly, you probably have no idea about my borderline addiction to shoes. So let me elaborate.

I have 7'' wedges made out of old fashioned floral print that look like a couch from the '70s.
6" Jeffrey Campbells with chicken talons on the heel.
Electric blue wedges.
Cheetah print spikes
Sparkly gold wedges with bows across the toe
... and the list goes on.

And you know what? I hardly EVER wear them. Unless it's a special occasion or I'm going out of town, they usually sit in my closet--silent, beautiful shrines to the life I wish I could live.

So why don't I?

Well, if you're unaware, I happen to reside in Idaho. And here in beautiful Idaho, people tend to shun the different, the unique, the bizarre, and the freakishly tall girls wearing heels. I'm already 5'9'' so imagine what I look like when you add 7" Jeffrey Campbells that cost an arm and a leg (I'm too embarrassed to disclose the actual amount at this time). I've been told time and time again how intimidating I can be.

So I stopped wearing them. I was too outrageous. And I hate when people stare at me. I walked with my head down and made little to no eye contact.

Another little fact you probably don't know about me (unless you're my dad.... HI DAD!) is my tattoos. I'm borderline heavily tattooed. Twelve pieces, including a half-sleeve. And you know what? People STARE. Often unabashedly. And I get asked about them all the time. Sometimes questions that are not so nice. And through time, I've learned to take it in strides. Stare all you want, people of Idaho. These twelve pieces are deeply connected to my soul and mean more than you will ever know. Stare away. This is who I am.

The same goes for my dark purple lipstick, my dark eyebrows, my rockabilly hairstyles, my sheer shirts, my beetlejuice print pants. I love who I am. So let them stare! Who knows, perhaps one of them is thinking, "I wish I could be different like that. Live the life I wish I could."

So why is it that I still have a problem wearing all my high heeled shoes? I guess it took this morning to realize it. Sitting next to my closet, getting dressed for the day, and trying on all high heeled shoes only to put them back in the closet.

"STOP SHALESE"

"Do you know what just happened? That's right. DOMA was appealed. Prop. 8 was appealed. People everywhere who have been suppressed for too long are finally getting a taste of the civil rights that we often take for granted. They are expressing themselves, being who they were meant to be, and you can't even wear a pair of high heels you spent your whole paycheck on because you are afraid of what people will think?" (don't judge me, it was a low moment)

So this is me declaring that I will no longer care about the opinions of strangers. I will wear my high heels shoes. Hell, I'll even wear a pink tutu to work if I feel so inclined (I'm looking at you Idaho Republican Cornel Rasor).

What I'm saying is, the world is changing. Slowly, but it's changing. People are becoming more comfortable in who they are without fear of persecution. So let's help them by showing we don't care about the opinions of those who don't matter. Starting today, let's live the lives we want to. If that means dusting off your high heels, then great. If that means dying your hair green, do it. If that means skipping down the aisles at Wal-Mart, odds are I'm skipping right behind you. Do it.

.... If that means coming out to your parents, your friends .... do it.

Don't be scared. Look at all the people who are going to stand with you. You better believe I will be there, in all my tall freakish glory.

And my shoes are going to be damn fabulous.


Cheers my friends. Be well. Be yourself. It's time to stop worrying what people think.