I looked at my options and sighed. I knew what I wanted to wear, but also knew that wasn't going to happen. 

I begrudgingly put on the heels. 

When I returned home later that night and took off my shoes, I glanced over at my toms-inspired slip-ons. While rubbing my sore toes I made a decision.

I wasn't a heels girl anymore. 

*****

I used to wear heels all the time. I joked about the fact that there was NEVER a time to NOT wear heels. The higher, the better. I felt more confident, I preferred the way my legs looked in heels and, simply, I just liked them.

Going out downtown with the girls? Easy, heels. 

Going out to dinner with the husband? Duh. Heels.

Hosting a bbq? Might seem odd, but heels. Maybe wedges.

Returning books to the library? Heels.

Grocery shopping? Heels.

Hanging out at the Park Tavern for some bar games, including bowling? Well, obviously heels until it was time to put on those god-awful bowling shoes. 

Heels were always appropriate. 

There were times when I would wear flats. Those rare times when practicality would win out. But I always felt off. In hindsight it was because of one simple fact:

The higher the heel, the greater my confidence.

Then, as most stories go, things changed. For me it was because I went and gained almost 60 pounds. 

Heels and pregnancy don't mix. 

I tried. But it was futile. I relented, bought a couple pairs of flats (because I literally had one pair prior to pregnancy) and lined up all my pretty heels in a row.

"I'll be back."

*****

It took longer than expected. Back-to-back pregnancies and then dealing with two babies under one will do that. To be honest I spent the majority of the time in my house, so I was either barefoot (but not pregnant anymore, thank goodness) or in slippers. 

But when I went out, I crammed my now 1/2 a size larger feet into my old heels and plastered a smile across my face. Back to normal. Back to my heels.

But instead of feeling like I was coming home to old friends, they were a constant reminder. 

A reminder of my old life. A life in which I could wear heels from sun-up till sun-up and barely feel anything. 

Now I was lucky to get an hour in heels without wanting to take them off and stab someone with them to distract me from the extreme pain running through my body, starting from my toes. 

So a new philosophy was born. Not EVERY time was a time to wear heels. I decided to save my heel-wearing for those special times. Like when my husband and I would get a rare night away from two babies. 

It's funny how much a heel size affected how I felt about myself. At first when I wore my flats I felt out of place and like I was "slumming it." I felt like I didn't look as good as when I wore heels. This resulted in my feeling bad about myself and vowing to never wear flats out again. I needed my heels to feel better. 

Or was that all there was to it? 

*****

Heels had become more than just heels. They were me trying to be something I simply wasn't any longer.

How often do we go through changes but try to hang on to the "old version" of ourselves for as long as possible? This wasn't as much about confidence and feeling better about myself in heels as it was about me trying to hang on to the old me in a small way.

I am not the woman I was in 2010. Number one, I'm not running around corporate america. I have a feeling if I was working in an office, I'd wear more heels. Probably not the same height as "back in the day" but some sort of a heel. 

Number two, I'm a mom. And with that came pregnancy and my body (and feet) changed. So did how I spent my days. Chasing kids at the playground was absolutely NOT a heel appropriate place. Some moms can pull it off and I bow down to you. I cannot. 

Number three, my confidence is no longer tied to the height of my heel. I actually feel better when I wear low heels or flats out these days. I'm more comfortable and also because I no longer think I look "better" if I wear heels. I'm confident with my "look" no matter the shoe-wear.

I used to hide from my age. Hide behind the biggest heel I could wear. But I'm thirty-freakin-seven and loving it. I don't know if this much-improved confidence is an age thing or just a natural evolution, but it's with that confidence that I chose to donate some (a lot) of my heels and put the rest away for times I want to wear them (because I still do). I had to make room for all the flats that are taking up more and more space these days.

Because you can take the heel-lover out of the shoe-lover but the shoe-lover remains. 

xo Sara 

P.S. Here's the post from my birthday when I wrote about "claiming" my years instead of hiding from them.