Havana Sundaes: I Don’t Wear Heels

I know, I know.  Heels accentuate all that’s great about being a woman.  It gives me legs for days and puts those calf muscles on point.  I will give you a thousand excuses about health hazards, big feet that are hard to shoe, even unsightly toes that resemble fingers.  The list could go on and on but here is the truth of the matter…

There was this one time in high school. It was Spring of 1998.  If you didn’t know, my style has and always will be a strange thing.  The more unique I look, the happier I am.  Some people don’t know that about me because as a nurse you take on the last suit you’ll ever wear (think men in black), the dreaded blue scrubs.  Before the scrubs though I never wore what everyone else did. This wasn’t easy being a plus size teenager because we only have one store but thankfully for me I have an aunt that is a seamstress and I had designer originals.  I will admit being a living husky dress/clothes dummy wasn’t always a good thing but coming to terms with it was a part of embracing I am a different bird in a room full of chickens regardless of what I’m wearing.

So on this day I was wearing my favorite outfit, a crush velvet black shirt and a pair of cream colored bell bottoms with black pinstripes. I had my microwave clip on pony tail piled high on my head, a pair of hoops and a quartz crystal cross that hung to mid rib cage.  To complete the outfit and unbeknownst to many, I would have to wear heels because my aunt clearly thought I was over six feet tall and sneakers would eat up the bottom of the pants.  I had saved my check from Golden Corral and bought a hot pair of platform mary jane heels and I was rocking it! This made me an attention getter. Mostly because I was over six feet in the shoes and about the tallest girl in my class without them.

My best friend and I were on our way to one of our final classes and she decided she had enough money for fresh cookies made by one of the classes in the back of the school. If I remember correctly (because usually I don’t) the class was some kind of entrepreneurial class like Young Leaders. Anyway, they had good cookies and we wanted some but our class was back towards the front of the school so we had to hurry.  We reached the back passageway but there was a gang of kids headed in the same direction so we had no time to lose. Our solution:  cut across the courtyard which was protected by two poles with a thick chain link rope about two feet off the ground.  My friend went first in her sneakers and had no problem even though she was the shorter of the two. Then I went next, stepping high with my right leg and coming down on soft earth that my heel began to dig into as I lifted my left leg up and over.  I thought I was clear of the rope but all of a sudden I was tilting towards the ground.  My heel was caught in the link which was way too small to fit the entire heel so I guess the corner was stuck.  My other foot gave way in the soft soil and I was forced to meet the ground head on as my hands were still holding to the straps of my bookbag.

The impact was brutal. I went belly first and all wind was knocked out of me.  My friend turned in shock because she swore the ground shook behind her and just stared at me with one leg on the rope and the other flung hap hazard.  My ponytail was escew and my face had narrowly escaped injury as I turned it to the side to try to regain my breath. It felt like the whole school came to a stand still as I lay there stunned unable to remember how to stand up.

Suddenly there were hands upon me, the head cheer leader and our senior mascot were helping me up asking if I was alright.  You’d think it would be my friend but she was too busy laughing her head off.  I nodded yes and my humiliation was complete.  The pants had a huge tear in the knee and the warning bell had sounded.  I had no choice but to hobble to my next class and finish the day.  I swore from that day forward heels were evil and dangerous and I would never ever wear them again.

So there it is.  You now know my deep, dark, shame and the real reason I don’t wear heels.  You believe me right?

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