Okay for 2 Hours I was not a real Mom. I was a fashionista , a fashion plate, a high heel wearing, depending on others to chase after my children, real honest to goodness woman. A little hypocritical to my own shoe/mom believes. I decided to try something new.

Sometimes in life things change , I can stand there in my flip-flops and watch the world change around me or I open my eyes, stand a little higher and try something new.

When it came time to pick out shoes for my moms wedding, I headed to the department store. Like the high school cliques of my past, there the shoes were separated in their different aisles/lunch tables. The tennis shoes/jocks, the loafers/nerds, and the heels/preps. I went to the middle aisle, were the dress flats were, just the middle of the road kinda kid. All nice looking flats, but suddenly like a white- striped flashing smile and hand gesture from the cool kids, a pair of heels beckoned me over. They were hip, they were cool. Black, textured patent leather, peep toe, three inch heel.

I tried them on, heaven! Mind you I am not the kind of girl that gets excited about shoes, but for one minute I knew what Carrie Bradshaw felt like in her Manolo Blahniks. Like some sort of secret woman power I found myself paying for and walking out of the store with said shoes.

I had to practice walking in my heels for a couple of days, sore feet and headaches from the elevation took some getting used to but I was determined. The thought of falling flat on my face scared me. It wasn’t as hard as I thought , not as big of a change as I thought it would be.

When it came time to go to the wedding I was somewhat comfortable. I wasn’t prepared to run in heels at the church but standing and walking around wasn’t bad. The stress of getting myself and the kids ready plus helping my mom before she walked down the aisle kept my mind off the pain. During the service I got to sneak them off my feet, which helped.

Then my mom got married. I had a new step-dad. My mom’s last name was changing. This is scary. Like testing out my heels the week before, I had to test out my feelings for my mom getting married. It was scary, I knew no matter what she is always mom. I watched her say “I do” and I saw how happy she was. It wasn’t as bad as I thought. The tears were tears of joy and love. My heels were like a little security blanket for this big change in my life. I could stand still and not embrace the change in my mom’s new life, or I could stand tall and know a name might change but a mom’s love is always there.

Truthfully my feet hurt, my knees killed, and I almost fell down the church steps but it was worth it. Before the reception I put my flats on, this mom can’t dance in heels. The heels suited me fine those couple of hours I needed them. I stood a little taller inside and out. And now those heels are back in their box on my closet shelf. Next time a change comes my way, I’ll get out my heels and get a higher view.