Uncategorized

Boots.

Every girl has a pair of boots.  Tall or short.  We all have that one pair of boots that make us feel like we have our shit together.

I sat contemplating as I was driving. I looked down at my attire. Hoodie, comfortable levis and my feet lazily stuck in my Ariat Fat Baby  boots. I smile in the rear view mirror and I remember.

I found a letter the other day. Not just any letter mind you.

The letter of  “Hey this being married thing….it isn’t working…for me. You’re great. But not for me. So let’s be friends?”

Okay so it didn’t go like that exactly, but it sounds way better than the real life version. Now I can look back and say thank you. I didn’t know it then, but I had just been given a gift.

I shift a little in my seat. When you don’t know where you’re going, any destination will do. Once upon a time, I was a passenger in my life. I was letting someone else do all the driving. I was busy reading the map and handing out snacks.

I shift in my seat. I look down at the relaxed sway of my leg resting against the door.

My boots.

Never thought something could be so deep over boots, but every bit of that is true_

 

I had a pair of  tall Louis Vuitton boots. The were soft supple leather with a nice heel. They fit my foot like a glove.  They made me feel like someone who had their shit together.

I look back down at my Fat Baby boots.

I have had these going on twelve years. They are comfortable and easy to wear. They don’t fit very well in a stirrup. They slow me up running down a shoot, but they are trustworthy and sturdy.

I had walked down one aisle of boots three times. I picked up a pair and smelled them. New leather. New boot. I touched the top and looked at the bottom. The color wasn’t right. I walked around another corner and looked at the tan colored boots. They had a little texture but they weren’t snake skin or ostrich. They were shorter than my normal pick. I picked them and smelled them. I looked the down the row and pulled out a box. Size 8.5. I put them in the cart and walked to the cashier. I didn’t need to try them on. I knew they were mine.

The girl that bought those boots was looking for something. She needed direction. She needed her roots. She didn’t know it at the time, even though it was hard, she was going to need to pull herself up by her boot straps and get on with this thing called living.

To my next contestant More

Everyone has lost someone,  ended a relationship, or thought they couldn’t go on after a situation in life has left them broken. Every. Single. One. Of. Us. We all have a story. We all have a time and place in life where we had to pull ourselves up by finding the one thing that has always brought us comfort and strength.

For some us raised in the dirt and the muck, that’s a pair of boots. It reminds me of where I am from, what I made of and just how many times I can get thrown in the dirt and get up smiling.

Can a pair of boots do all that? Yes. A pair of boots can do all that.