My divorce shoes… I had divorce shoes. I still do! They were heels. After my X moved out I was devastated. It took me months to even begin to wrap my head around what was happening. As I began to fight my way out of the fog… I discovered my divorce shoes. I don’t remember how it happened- but it might be one of the all time hands down best accidental discoveries of my entire life. I wore high heels. Everywhere. Black ones, blue ones, even red. Wedges. Boots. Fancy ones. All kinds! No discrimination here. If they were heels I wore them. Leopard print and patent leather. Sparkly and suede. Some were expensive…most were not. I remember seeing a friend one time who mentioned that another friend had seen me at the grocery store….’WEARING HEELS.’ Yes- my shoes were that noteworthy. They were receiving third party sightings.
Divorce is always hard. When your husband leaves you for his lawyer girlfriend…brutal. I felt the rejection deeply. It hurt. I felt fat and frumpy and pathetic. I was invisible. My shoes made me feel better. They were one high heeled step in the right direction. They helped revive that tiny spark of pride buried deep inside. I wore those shoes with determination. The worse I felt the higher they got. No more house wife uniform of sweat pants and sketchers. No way… This chic was wearing heels to Walmart! At one point I would have ran a friggen marathon in those shoes. I actually wore them around my house. For no reason. By myself. On Sunday afternoons. I held my head high and got dressed with purpose. No more slouchy comfortable shoes for me. My life was no longer comfortable…and I had the shoes to prove it. By God if I can survive a divorce with 3 kids- I can wear 3 inch heels at the f***ing mall. Bring it. Comfort isn’t always the most important thing- sometimes its survival- in whatever form that may be.
Divorce shoes…I love you. You were always there for me…
Divorce Shoes 