Oh, why am I even asking. I know how you are. Neglected. Dejected. Sore and abused.
You’re there to carry my busy body from point A through Z and back again. You give me a solid base from which to push myself up from the bed where we’ve rested all night. Silently connected, I drift off to sleep without even a snuggle or a simple “goodnight” to you, who are constantly at my beck and call day after day, yet you continue to be ready to spring into action when I need you. You carry me as I chase my giggling toddler, meander down sun-speckled trails, and stroll down the aisles at the grocery store.
You, my dear, dear friends, have been undervalued.
You would think that after our painful bout with gout, which swept me off my feet in the worst way, that my eyes would have opened to see that you are an incredibly important part of me. I need you more than I ever realized. Life without the use of one’s feet is a torturous endeavour when you’re used to going wherever you want, at any speed you desire. Until this experience, I didn’t give you the attention and thanks you deserve. Sadly, I still don’t, even after including your care and appreciation in my vision of joy.
Dear Feet, you deserve something special. You deserve a long, luxurious bubble bath. You deserve a relaxing massage to relieve all your years of built up tension. You deserve a pedicure. I know, I’ve been too embarrassed of your unconventional beauty to have ever given you such treatment. It’s time to get over that. You are beautiful in your own, hardy way, and your sole is full of pure intentions.
You deserve pretty things. You deserve comfort. You deserve these sturdy yet glamorous black flip flops to prance around in, that will show off your curves and the natural beauty of each precious, and uniquely stubby little toe. You deserve to feel like you’re walking on air, even when you plod over hot sandy beaches, explore the city streets, and navigate the rocky terrain of our West Coast shoreline.
Dear Feet, I promise not to stuff you into 10-dollar cheap pieces of plastic, sacrificing your own needs for the lower price tag. You see, your needs are my needs, and we both deserve to feel (and look) amazing, every day. It’s true what they say, that you get what you pay for, and my darlings, our relationship demands more quality than those pathetic paraders of disposable love.
Dear Feet, we have a long life of adventures ahead of us. Whether we find ourselves across the world, or at the Girl Two Doors Down, from this point on, I commit to ensuring we put our best foot forward.
*Disclaimer* This is not a sponsored post, but rather a creative challenge as part of a blogging course I’ve been involved in over the last five weeks. However, if I did as spectacular a job as I hope I did in writing this sexy tribute to my neglected little tootsies, I might win a prize in the form of $$ or shoes. Either would be pretty sweet, seeing as shoes are awesome, and money can be used to buy shoes. You can check out my full disclosure policy here.