Carol H Tucker Passionate about knowledge management and organizational development, expert in loan servicing, virtual world denizen and community facilitator, and a DISNEY fan
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beladona Memorial Be warned:in this very rich environment where you can immerse yourself so completely, your emotions will become engaged -- and not everyone is cognizant of that. Among the many excellent features of SL, there is no auto-return on hearts, so be wary of where your's wanders...
First of all, I am short. Runs in the family, I am 5’3” and taller than my mother and my grandmothers were. Second of all, I am and always have been pudgy, which makes me look shorter. Third of all I am short waisted, which means that I do a lot better with two-piece outfits than I do with dresses, unless they don’t have a waistline. Now the offset is that I have long legs, dancers’ legs I have been told with a 30” inseam, and I look taller than I am… well until I stand next to a taller person, of course.
As a result, I have always been rather vain of my legs, and liked showing them off. Although not a dancer, I had well shaped calves and thighs and didn’t carry my weight there. I liked dressing up, always wearing stockings and high heels when I went out and to work. And I mean HIGH heels, at least 3” and usually 4” with the occasional foray to 5”. Frank used to love the fact that I was so comfortable in heels because he thought the look sexy. And I loved wearing heels, I felt sexy, I felt attractive, I liked the way that my legs looked.
About five years ago, my ankles started bothering me, ballooning up and aching. Slowly I stopped wearing heels, then stockings became a chore to get on and off. I switched to pants and flats for the most part. I had already started watching salt intake and drinking more water and watching my diet, but this particular issue seemed to go far beyond the usual hot weather bloat. I changed to wide shoes, went from a size 6.5 to a size 8 or 9, stopped wearing certain shoes that cut into my instep. Of course I did not go quietly – I was horrified and upset about what was happening and kept badgering the doctor, who didn’t help matters by informing me that I was getting along in years and prescribed support/compression hose. We finally did a circulation test when I wouldn’t shut up, and found that there was some blood flow issues – the valves in my lower extremities were no longer working correctly, a condition that resulted in varicose veins in some but for me it meant the blood was pooling in my ankles and feet and causing the swelling. Is there a procedure that could “fix” the problem? Possibly, but it isn’t covered by insurance nor is it recommended by my doctor because the level of risk just isn’t worth the health benefits.
Great. Just great.
So I bit the bullet and gave away all the high-heeled shoes and boots. I will admit that I fell into a bit of a depression because a physical asset that I was vain about was gone. Now my body seems to have made new capillaries and the blood flow seems to be a bit more normal these days, but if I try to wear heels, my ankles still ache and puff up, plus I get leg cramps that night, so I stick to flats. I haven’t bought any “granny” shoes ….yet…. and I wear the support hose now and then in the winter instead of regular socks or knee-his. I have even put on a couple skirts, but keep to the maxi ones rather than showing off my legs. And I try to accept that perhaps I was too proud of the way that my legs looked and it is time to learn some humility.
Oh, the trigger for this post was an article about how to prevent your feet from swelling -- of course the accompanying snapshot was of thin ankles and pretty feet. AND at this point I find I need to repeat my mantra, which oddly enough doesn’t have anything at all to do with the way that I look: “I want to see myself as [1] a vibrant, caring, intelligent woman [2] who abides by the consequences of her past choices without living in regret [3] and looks with optimism to the future.”
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