Mojo Boots

I bought a pair of black ankle boots yesterday. With heels. And pointy toes. I haven’t bought myself a new pair of shoes in a long time, let alone a pair with heels. They were a screaming deal, but mostly when I put them on, they made me feel something I’ve not felt in a long time. Sassy. And beautiful. And tall.

When I was in high school, I used to buy shoes as a stress reliever. I had upwards of 200 pairs of shoes at one point. I was a pretty stressed out teenager. But as I went through college and beyond that number got paired down slowly but surely. When I had The Boy, I had two pairs of shoes. I finally got talked into getting a couple more pair, but they were comfy, able to chase the kids shoes.

But yesterday, for some reason, I went to the mall when I still had some time left before I had to pick up the kids. And I was wandering through stores emblazoned with huge, red clearance signs and I found myself in the shoe section. So I looked around and found these boots. And the minute I had them on my feet I knew they had to be mine. So, on a whim, I bought them.

And ever since then I’ve felt more like me than I have in a very long time. And I cannot even begin to tell you how good that feels. To be able to walk across the parking lot with my head held high, my shoulders pushed back, a flirty smile playing at the edges of my mouth.

I feel alive and real and sexy today. Like I really can do anything and succeed anywhere. Like maybe, just maybe, I really do belong somewhere, if only in my own head. And it gives me hope that my mojo isn’t as far gone as I thought. That maybe it’s been lying just below the surface, waiting for me to get a clue and reveal it once more.

Whatever it is, I’m cherishing it. And if I had known these boots were the answer, I’d have found them years ago.