I tend to be a transparent person. And no, it’s not just because I’m so pale you can basically see through me (although that’s true too). I believe that being honest is important. Even if some of the things I’m truthful about are sometimes embarrassing or painful, I feel like if I’m being asked a question, I should give a full and honest answer. The same goes for blogging. Which leads me to today’s transparency.
I used to have a hard time tying my shoes. I mean, when I was little, I remember getting frustrated because I just didn’t get the Loop/Swoop/Pull, Bunny round the tree through the hole lesson. My fingers just couldn’t seem to get it right. And for a long time I wore those lovely Velcro sneakers (enduring classmate ridicule) because I couldn’t get it together enough to tie a pair of shoelaces. Needless to say, once I did get it together – I was a shoe tying fool. I loved my laces.
But then something happened that made me hate the tying. I found that I couldn’t bring my foot to my knee to tie without hauling my foot in both hands to put it up there... I couldn’t get my fat rolls to smoosh enough in order to get my arms around my thunder thighs and allow my short stubby arms reach my shoes… Heaven forbid a lace come untied while out and about with nowhere to sit because there was no way I could get down on one knee and get back up again without having something solid to cling to when I tried to haul myself back up.
So, when I had to wear shoes that tied, I prayed that the laces would stay in their little bows… and when that prayer was answered with a “no”, and I had to tie them I’d look around for somewhere to sit or to raise my foot on so I wouldn’t have to bend down. When I tried to tie the shoes myself, I found that I couldn’t reach far enough around my fat to tie the laces in the center so I would just pull to the side of my body I could reach best and then double knot the laces once I got it done… which would leave me winded, which of course left me embarrassed. Or, if my husband was with me I would pout and hold my foot out to him making him kneel down and tie it. My mom did this with my dad and I always thought it was adorable… until I realized it was necessary for me to do it. Then, it just became an internal embarrassment that I dressed up in the “awwww, aren’t we cute” clothes of routine.
Then, this past Friday as we were in Baltimore with my cousin Brandi and her husband DJ, my shoe came untied. My husband pointed it out to me – and I didn’t lift it towards him and pout. I didn’t even think to try that old trick. No, I raised my foot up (without the use of my hands to haul it towards me) and while standing on one foot - I tied my laces in the center of my shoe – not on the side. I did it as if it were second nature, as if it had never been a problem. I didn’t think about it twice… until my husband expressed pride in the fact that he didn’t have to tie my shoes for me anymore. Embarrassing, yes… a moment I would imagine is akin to someone exclaiming in public “You went potty all by yourself” to a grown person. Do I wish I had never been at that point where it was necessary for him to be proud of me for tying my own shoes? Of course! But you know what? It’s a struggle that I went through and having it called out like that made me remember how much I love my laces! J
