And then tonight’s issue hits me like a freight train. I bought my two-year old daughter the cheap, super sparkly red shoes instead of the supportive Stride Rights. And now she has flat feet. (Currently 15 years old and doing just fine, thank you very much, but still….)
My 3 o’clock brain keeps at it — baiting me with thoughts about my fitness as a parent, a provider, and really, as a person. I mean, what kind of mother ruins her daughter’s feet?
And while my mind reels around this made-up problem the information buried deep within my very soul is trying to surface; that the reason I’m awake at this ungodly hour isn’t about the sparkly shoes I bought for my daughter 13 years ago but about my own red sparkly self that I’ve kept tamped down these many years.
It’s the part of me that knows I’m meant for bigger and better things.
Those thoughts about sparkly red shoes are trying to deliver me home just like the ruby slippers that Dorothy wore in the Wizard of Oz. And just like those shoes in the movie that symbolize inner beauty, courage, personal growth and power, my 3 o’clock foray into worry is not so much about my daughter’s flat feet but about my own sparkly self trying to find a way out and into my life.
You see, like many good girls, I learned somewhere along the line to forego the red sparkly shoes and pick the sensible, sturdy black flats instead, metaphorically speaking, of course.
And unlearning it has been hard, very hard. But also necessary. Because I know that we succeed only when we’re brave enough to look for, find and pursue our truest selves and journey on our own best path.
Plus, I really do want my daughter (and my son… and everyone I’ve ever met and haven’t met for that matter) to keep picking the red sparkly shoes that symbolize inner beauty, courage, personal growth and power. And I also I know that doing, not telling, is the most persuasive teacher.
What’s your red sparkly truth that’s trying to get out?