A Perfect Pair

When I got engaged, the first thing I did (not surprising) was pick out shoes for the big day.  I found them in a magazine and got one of only 2 pairs left in the country!  White satin, 3 inch heeled Stuart Weitzman that laced up the back and had swarovski crystal embellishments.  They were even more special because my Grammie bought them for me.  I wore them around the house with white socks to break them in for the big day.

But upon arrival at the reception, I took them off to put on my second wedding shoes of the day (blue Stuart Weitzman flip flops with shoe charms) to find that my dream shoes had ruined my pedicure.  More specifically, they melted the nail polish right off.  In fact, my perfect pair of shoes didn't actually fit me.  Yet I wore them anyway.

Today would have been my seventh wedding anniversary.  But it isn't.  Because, quite frankly, the shoes weren't the only thing that didn't fit.  Divorce is a horrible thing.  As my friends who have gone through it told me, "You can never quite prepare for the way it will make you feel.  When you least expect it, it will creep up and your emotions will be a surprise."  Don't get me wrong, I know divorce was my only option.  One person cannot a marriage make.  And hindsight being 20-20, I knew walking down the aisle that this might not go as planned. But I did it anyway.  Because sometimes, we simply want what we want regardless of red flags or unintended consequences.

But the pain of a failed marriage is still real and it hurts.  Not everyday.  In fact, it has gotten easier day by day.  But I can't help remembering what it felt like to wear that dress and put on those shoes my loving Grammie bought for me.  Because I thought if I can just ignore the pain, and put a smile on my face, everything would be OK.  That turned out not to be the case.  You can't ignore the pain forever.

So now, I only buy shoes that fit.  And I got rid of all of the ones that didn't during my intervention and subsequent yard sale.  Because ignoring something doesn't mean it isn't happening.  And you can never find your perfect pair if you are stuck in the wrong shoes.  And being sad today doesn't mean I'm not still happy - it just means I'm reflecting on the past and that helps me appreciate the present so much more.  Because I've been blessed with a second chance. Not everyone can say that.  And I am grateful.

Happy in Flip Flops

Last week, I was walking down the street in Chicago when a friend and colleague commented, "You haven't blogged much this year, Messy, have you?"  I thought about it and replied, "well, I seem to blog the most when there is stuff going on in my life - reflection, drama, etc. - so I guess I haven't blogged much because I'm..."  And he replied "happy?"

As I looked down at my flip flops, I couldn't help but think of a friend's wedding we attended a few weeks ago in San Diego.  The yacht wouldn't allow shoes so we were all given a pair of Old Navy white flip flops when we boarded.  Now this of course caused a fashion challenge for me because I normally dress from the feet up, but as I stood on that yacht with the love of my life, I didn't even notice I was wearing flip flops that looked like everyone else's (even his size 14s!).  I just felt... well, happy.

So I don't blog as much as I used to and I don't buy shoes like I used to and I'm happy.  Coincidence, perhaps?  So it is time for this reflective blogged to focus not on the past and the drama that has filled my life but on what makes me happy.  And you know I will be sharing it with you!

You Had Me at Carlos Santana

I'm sure you will agree that one of the most romantic scenes from a movie was from Jerry Maguire. When Dorothy Boyd told Jerry Maguire, "you had me at hello", your heart melted. Not to mention when Jerry said, "you complete me." Sigh, that is why we go to the movies!

And I'm not ashamed to admit that I had a moment like this two weeks ago. I work from home or am on the road so don't get to the office very much. But when I do, I figure why not wear a pair of killer heels. What's the point of all that beauty being confined to my closet, right? So as I walked into the kitchen one morning wearing these sexy ankle wrapped, cork heeled, multi-colored stilettos I just about fell over when my boyfriend said, "You look beautiful.  Are those your Carlos Santanas?"

I'm sorry... what?!? This is a race car driving, incredible at golfing, hard working, manly man.  He doesn't read In Style or fantasy shop on jimmychoo.com. How in the world did he know that? So I asked...

"You told me about them when you bought them.  Don't you remember I was on the phone?  Honey, I don't forget anything you tell me."

Seriously? Now I knew he was amazing before this moment but it just reinforced my admiration. And as I drove to work, with a smile on my face, I couldn't help but remember Dorothy and Jerry. Romantic moments don't only happen in the movies!

Brothers and Sisters

As I sat in mass with my grandparents last Sunday morning, I was touched by the brother and sister in front of me.  She was 13 and he 10 and they were arm in arm, smiling and laughing, for most of the service.  And suddenly I welled up remembering what it was like when I had a brother.  A brother who...

• Served as my confirmation sponsor
• Yelled at his buddy when he made a comment that I was "filling out" my eighth grade summer
• Told me he was proud of me at both my high school and college graduations
• Invited me to live with him summers during high school and the summer after I graduated college so we could hang and work together (I was cheap labor)
• Asked me to help his new family settle in when they moved to St. Louis
• Handed his son to me in the NICU when he was newly born
• Gave me a job when I decided to move back home in 2001

When I graduated high school, my brother actually gave me one of those charms that say Best Friend and break in half.  We were close...

And now we aren't, as I've shared in an earlier blog.  He is reconnecting with my parents but has not made a move to speak to me.  I haven't seen him in 8 years.  His choice, not mine.

Have I made peace with it?  I'm not sure given the fact that watching a young brother and sister in church made me cry.  And when I hear my mother speak of him I feel a mixture of sadness and anger.  Knowing that someone you loved as much as yourself has suddenly walked away, with no reason and no goodbye, creates a constant emptiness in your heart.  It's like grieving accept they aren't dead.  Although, in a way, I guess they are to you.


But that is why the people I choose to have in my life - my boyfriend, my friends - mean even more to me.  Knowing they are there for me no matter what, even when I screw up or when they screw up, gets me through every day.  So everyday I thank God for the love of my life and my friends.  Thank you, All.  You know who you are.

Balancing Act

I know it has been way too long since I've written and I have no excuse other than I've been lacking inspiration.  Maybe that's because I haven't been shoe shopping...


No, the reality is that I've been keeping my personal life, well, personal.  Not writing about what has been going on with me.  And historically my blog has really been about what is going on - the good, the bad and the ugly.  So I think I have struggled trying to decide what to write.


Because there truly is a balance between bareing your soul and being discreet.  I like to share my story because I think it might help others (at least that's what some have told me) but I also want to honor those who don't want to be "characters" in my life story.


It's like walking in really high heels.  They sometimes look fabulous in the picture but when you put your feet into them, no matter how seasoned of a veteran you are, you may still wobble.  You have to stand tall and convicted in order to pull them off.  Actually, that's pretty true about a lot of life, isn't it?

Flatter Me

When people think shoes and me, I think they automatically think high heels. You know, the kind that make people say, how do you walk in those? And I love heels. I love to be tall. I love the confidence that comes from wearing them - you can't slouch, you must walk with a firm step. They are sexy and strong - just like I aspire to me. (Not to mention they come in handy when kissing a certain 6'2" handsome gentleman...)

But lately, I've been drawn to flats. Why can't I be sexy and strong in those too? Let's face it, I spend a lot of time in airports and walking around conferences. And I'm ready to admit it - 4" heels aren't always comfortable. So this spring, you will seen a flatter me (get it? I love a good pun!) I'm going to come down out of the clouds and embrace some cute and sassy comfort. Like these turquoise beauties with the lime green lining. Don't they just make you want to kick up your step? And I'll be able to kick it a lot longer than in my favorite stilettos.

I do wonder if people will still comment on my ballet slipper look as much as the highest of platforms. I guess this will be a sociological experiment of sorts. (OK, that may be a bit of a stretch.) But, more importantly, I wonder how that 6'2" handsome gentleman will feel about me standing on my tip-toes for a smooch... One thing is for certain - I can't wait to find out!

A Seinfeld Moment

So we had a MEGA garage sale last week. So big that one woman actually bought 80 articles of clothing. Yep, 8-0. Not only did I clean out my closets, but there was a lot my mom contributed, as well as some "stuff" left behind when my life changed in 2009. You name it, we had it to sell. Including, as I shared in my last post, shoes...

So we have discussed, ad nauseam, how difficult it can be for me to part with my footwear. But I continue to do it because there is no point in keeping what I can't wear. Actually, while my garage sale was going on I also had an eBay sale happening for some shoes that were higher end. (Can you say "make money money?!")

I can tell you stories of my life based on what shoes I was wearing (obviously) so imagine my horror when a group of non-English speaking women came by, starting trying on my shoes, speaking their native tongue and... LAUGHING! Were they laughing at me? Were they calling me names based on all my stilettos? What were they saying? I felt like Elaine at the manicurist!

I was tempted to grab my shoes away from them and reassure them (my shoes) they are all special in their unique ways. I know, I just about lost it. But I didn't! I regained my composure and decided maybe stilettos aren't for everyone who frequents garage sales. I later sold a few pairs anyway. Besides, I don't buy my shoes for other people, I buy them because they make me happy. So no, I won't be asking Frank Costanza, to come to my next sale. Besides, could they have been saying anything worse than what I have heard a thousand times - How in the world do you walk in those?!?!