Sunday, April 19, 2009

Ballet Shoes





As a little girl, I dreamed of being a ballerina or a princess, you see I saw them both as the same thing…small tiny beautiful girls in soft frilly dresses. That’s what I wanted to be, a fragile, delicate, soft, small beautiful little girl waiting for someone to sweep in and take care of me. As you know princesses and ballerina’s always have a prince charming that slays the dragons and protects them from all the evil. I wanted the fairy tale! But didn’t we all.

Instead I was the plump little girl with “a pretty face” who was a klutz. On the outside I seemed confident, strong and independent but on the inside I was shy, unsure and dying for someone to tell me I could do it. I was always afraid of failing. It’s funny how these things form as a child and stay with you forever.
Reflecting back as an adult, I think my desire to be rescued comes from the loss of my father at an early age. You see at 5 my parents divorced. In today’s world that doesn’t seem to be such a big thing, but in the 60’s it was different. I think I spent most of my life waiting for Daddy to come home. I wanted a normal family life. You know the Leave it to Beaver family, a mom, dad, brother or sister and the all elusive house with the white picket fence.

I have always been drawn to flat ballet inspired shoes. When I was in my twenties I can remember having the most amazing black suede flats; on the rounded toe area was a large flat black suede flower. I remember wearing those shoes with jeans, a crisp white t-shirt and a black blazer. That was one of those “stylish” outfits that “felt good”.

As I approach 50 and look for shoes, I am drawn to the pretty new ballet inspired shoes, I hold back. For some reason these pretty little shoes don’t go well with swollen ankles.

Lessons learned
. You create your own fairy tale, that’s what makes the story so special. You cannot wait for someone else to save you, you have to save yourself. You are responsible for your own failures and successes. And last but not least who can really say what’s normal and what’s not.

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