Bruised feet

Hello High Heelers,

I’m walking like an idiot today because I have very bruised feet. Now, normally bruises are a bad thing. They’re a sign of some kind of trauma from being banged up, or banged down, a little too hard (hopefully by mistake). Mine are a result of dancing with my friends – partially from the pinching of my stupidly impractical heels (yes, I did just admit that in writing) and partially from removing my stupid heels to relieve deathly pain only to have my toes stood on repeatedly (causing relatively less intense deathly pain, but deathly pain nonetheless). But mostly, my feet are bruised from too much dancing into the wee hours of Sunday morning with some of the most fabulous people I know (many of whom are hopefully reading this post – you special little munchkins!) On evaluating said damaged feet today, I felt a little bruised in my heart region. Here’s why…

You see. I don’t spend enough time with my friends. Really, I don’t. There are good reasons for it – I work hard, I train hard (when I’m not being lazy) and when I’m not working or training I’m usually completely and utterly exhausted (and therefore lazy). This translates into one night with my folks a week, one Sunday morning with my bestie and her troop, and if I’m lucky, one other friend packed in-between on a Saturday somewhere. That’s really not enough. On recently confirming a play date with a significant friend – I walked her down the aisle, she dried my tears on my darkest day and she’s lifted me up a thousand and one times – I realised I haven’t seen her for a whole year. That’s 365 days. That’s a lot of special moments gone. Less laughs. Less girl time. Less healing. Less love. There’s too much ‘less’. Bruised heart.

This weekend’s feet bruising activities actually began as a result of me watching another dear friend don her princess dress, clutch her father’s arm and walk towards a future partnership. As she did the long walk, and I was completely overwhelmed by her exquisiteness, happiness and delightful glow, it really hit home. Or, more truthfully, home hit me. Family is everything. The real ones. And the acquired ones. The people that are there to hold your hand when you’re shaking, or hold your heart together when you don’t have the strength, are the most valuable beings in your life. If you have a handful of those, you have a full heart. If you have two handfuls of them you are abundantly blessed. I think I may even have two handfuls and a foot-full! Treasure your people.

Many of you know that I spent a lot of time with someone who didn’t appreciate me. Sure – there was a reason, it was a season and it taught me the lesson of a lifetime. I have no regrets and I’m so blessed to have run away before I did the long walk clutching my dad’s arm, but it does pinch a little to know that I wasted so many special moments. So much of my sparkle. If I could take those giggles back I’d give them to the friends who warned me gently, forgave me easily and held me together even after they’d ‘told me so’. I’d give them to those friends who aren’t just friends, they’re deeper than that, they’re family. They stay. They are always present. They are always caring. Always loving. Always adding more. Never less.

We’re all surrounded by different people. Some of us have a natural family that is enriching and filled with love – as I do. Some of us don’t. But most of us do have a circle of adopted family that will hold us up when we’re broken and bruised. They’ll pass the tissues and do some stitching – with or without anaesthetic. They are our people. They don’t have to be blood. They can be bruises – trapped under our skin, close to our hearts.

We all have choices about how we spend our time and who we spend it with. May I suggest that we give less energy to those who don’t appreciate us? And never give anything less than our best to those who give their all to us. We know better. Let’s be better. Let’s step up, bruised and all, and surround ourselves with great people. And let’s be great people.

Have a wonderful week.

Yours in heels,
Jo

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