The Great High Heel Ban of 2007

Last spring, I was a gym-obsessed workaholic. Nothing could slow me down. If I wasn’t taking kickboxing or pulling 13 hour waitressing shifts, I was probably studying for the GREs. My inability to relax started to worry family and friends. My parents begged me to slow down. My boyfriend tried to convince me to take a vacation. And then fate stepped in.

I was on my way down my basement steps to do a load of laundry. One lone sock fell out of the basket I was carrying onto the step below me. I slipped on it and took a header down the rest of the stairs. The pain was instant and excruciating. I tried to stand up and fell right back down. I scooted back up the steps on my bottom and hopped on one foot to my mom’s room. I told her I was pretty sure I broke something.

A half hour later, the x-rays confirmed it. I had somehow managed to split the bone of my left big toe in half. My podiatrist, Dr. Fran, gave me a choice of colors for my cast. I chose neon pink. I would be on crutches for the next six weeks which meant absolutely no work or gym.

Up to this point, I hadn’t cried. Then, Dr. Fran delivered the news that would set me over the edge, “No high heels for the next six months.”

I hardly remember the drive home. My mom tells me I just stared off into the distance with a shell-shocked look on my face. She understood my love of heels better than anyone else (I’m pretty sure it’s an inherited trait).

I snapped out of it when instead of our driveway, she pulled into the mall parking lot. We were going shoe shopping! I hobbled along through the Macy’s shoe department, picking out the chicest flats I could find. I bought leopard flats, red patent leather flats, metallic silver flats, you name it. They turned out to be my saving grace.

Currently, I am fully healed – mind, body and soul. And once again…. fully heeled (okay, I know, these shoe puns have to stop.. but I can’t help myself). I have a newfound appreciation for my stilettos, which I wear every chance I get to make up for lost time. But every once in a while, I break out a pair of flats. And I have to laugh because the right shoe is always slightly more worn in than the left.


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