Dear High Heels
We need to talk.
This letter has been coming on for a while now; I know you’ve been thinking this too.
I’d like to let you know, it’s not you, it’s me. I’ve noticed that we’ve been living past each other lately and it’s not fair to either of us. It’s not that I don’t love you; it’s just that we are in the wrong place at the wrong time.
We’ve had our fun, but I’m looking for something more. You’ve been there for me during the best and the worst of times. Some of you have accompanied me to job interviews, weddings, parties, clubs, dates and even funerals. I’ll always be grateful for the time we’ve spent together.
To those of you I’ve purchased, but never worn, I apologise for leading you on. Please take comfort in knowing that you have moved me to purchase you based on your immense beauty, despite your obvious impracticality.
All of you are beautiful in your own way, but my needs have changed.
I’m not saying that we should break up; I just need time to figure motherhood out on my own.
Running around after a toddler in heels as sexy as it can be, it’s just not practical right now.
Also after being cut up by that closet butcher masquerading as a gynaecologist, my core is just not strong enough to support the both of us.
What I need right now is comfort and stability and those are two things you can’t give me.
We’ve tried therapy over and over again, but you’ve heard what the podiatrist said, there’s no fixing this.
You like to go out to restaurants and clubs all the time, but I have no energy for that after mopping up vomit, baby food, spilt milk and runny poop.
The last time I took you to bed you ruined everything! Not only did you rip my last remaining post-natal pair of stockings, but you had the audacity to stab my partner in the eye!
I know I’m a little rusty after the baby, but you’ve become a bit rough for my liking. It’s borderline possessive to be honest.
I’m afraid that if we continue on this path, one of us is going to snap.
So I think it’s time for us to go our separate ways.
Although you know I’m not somebody who flip flops; I just need something more secure without looking like a new born baby giraffe with every step I take.
I guess this is the end of our journey and I wish you well.
Go find the happiness you deserve and maybe one day when I’m finished popping out babies our paths will cross again.