Category: Journal

Beauty is Pain

Mary Long1 Comment

Every day women squeeze their feet into high-heeled shoes that hurt their feet. Think about that for a minute. Long ago, some designers decided that high heels are a fashion ‘must’ and sold that belief to the rest of us.

We talk about how ‘shoe crazy’ we are and the designer heels we must have, regardless of the fact that most of these shoes are torture devices for our feet.

Does it sound sane to you to spend hundreds of dollars on an item that causes you discomfort and pain?

Are we so willing to be fashion lemmings that we blindly accept what we’re told is ‘in’ regardless of the comfort or cost to us?

We support the fashion industry, not the other way around. If we respected ourselves enough to refuse to purchase heels that hurt our feet, the designers would create a shoe that was not only stylish, but comfortable.

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Thanks, Mom

Mary LongLeave a comment

Two months after my nineteenth birthday I became a statistic; a teenage single mother. To say I was terrified would be an understatement. My life plan up to that point had been to work just enough so I had money for beer, cigarettes and some new clothes every once in awhile. If there was a big party on a Saturday night and I couldn’t get off work, I would quit my job. I felt that I could always get another job, but I never wanted to miss a great party. (I’m still not convinced that this is a bad philosophy)

At any rate, there I was the year after graduating high school with a baby to raise. My family was supportive, and my parents let me stay at home with my son. My mom babysat on weekends when I worked the overnight shift waitressing at our local House of Pancakes.

This went on for the first year of my son’s life. I leaned heavily on my mother . As much as I loved my son, the thought of building a life for us on my own was something beyond my comprehension. I didn’t believe I would ever be able to do it. As long as my   parents were willing to let me stay there and keep me from facing my fears, I was more than willing to ignore them.

But one day my mother sat me down for a talk. She told me that she felt I was leaning on her too much and that I needed to move out and start life on my own.

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