happiness can come in a box

I have a love/hate relationship with my body, but one part I have never disliked…from my knees down. No matter how much I way or how in/out of shape I am in, my legs and feet generally look the same (minus when I’ve been on an airplane for hours and my feet and ankles swell up). As such, I have always been a shoe girl. Now, I know most women love shoes and shopping for them, however I have this emotional connection to shoes that is borderline weird.

Here’s the thing. When you are a woman who has struggled with weight your entire life, there’s something even more satisfying/gratifying/validating about shoes. And being that I do have legs I like, shoes are one of those things that can really accentuate this part of me. As such, I have a sickening number of pairs of shoes. I mean, like mental institution sick. Now, if I were a celebrity and made of money, maybe it wouldn’t be sick. But I’m not. Nor do I have a celebrity income.

Combine all of my emotional drive for purchasing great shoes with my retail therapy issues with the fact that my mother always taught me to buy quality…and well, you can see how that’s a real problem for a graduate student who is making pennies at her three very part-time jobs.
And today, having had a few little bumps in my road, Nordstrom was calling my name from miles away. I’m so obsessed with shoes and purchasing them that I actually have a sales person who knows me. Like, calls to tell me when shoes I like are in. Like, knows me well enough to know what I will like. As I said, it’s an illness. However, a fact is a fact.
Feb. 11 – I LOVE SHOES!!!
This is one of the fabulous pairs I purchased today. I’ll refrain from any more incrimination by leaving out the number of pairs this one pair was out of.

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