Girl things used to be a staple. The love of high heels, the meticulous routine to smell good, or an afternoon spent playing with hairstyles; it is all a part of my past now. My shoes have changed. A staple to my former wardrobe consisted of shoes that were high and glittery. Any chance to rock a pair of high heels were eagerly grabbed, strapped on, and a night ensued where I always hoped to not twist an ankle.
I still own these shoes plus several more, but I don’t wear them. After pregnancy, I became more comfortable and at ease in shoes like these. These are my so called mom shoes. Vans slip ons, Nike running shoes, and I LOVE TOMS. Toms are better than any pair of slippers I have ever owned and I will rock them to work, the store, or pretty much anywhere.
No these are not the stylish golden shoes I used to wear. These shoes have no heels. They are a comfort selection and I can put them on in under 2 seconds and they ensure I don’t drop the toddler when carrying him. I am knocking on wood at this moment because I know these shoes have no guarantee against my own clumsiness.
I’ve tried to wear a pair of heels since having my son. It lasted only two hours before my feet rebelled in tremendous pain, I could barely walk in them. As a girl, it felt like I was fifteen again trying to learn to walk in my homecoming dance shoes for the first time.
Another habit has also changed in girl world. I rarely use these products anymore.
Don’t get me wrong, I still love to smell pretty. Somewhere I just stopped taking the time to use the body wash followed by the body lotion and finishing with the matching body spray. My scent is based now on shea butter soap and deodorant (on the days I remember, which I try to remember every day because no girl wants to walk around as smelly girl.) These lotions and sprays used to be a daily ritual for me. Daily girl days have truly changed into a woman rushing to have more time with her son.
The time I spend with him does not matter if I am in 5 inch heels. The time does not require me to smell like Paris Love or Rainkissed Leaves. Most of the time, he looks at me as a stranger when I am in my nice work clothes and have my face painted on. He is used to this lady.
The mom he knows. The mom in her glasses with no make up and smelling like shea butter walking around the house in her Toms. There is no glamorous high heels in this world. No fancy designer dresses. Only his pajama clad glasses wearing mama, that’s the person he loves.
And somewhere along the way, I have learned to love this person more too. The less maintenance means more face time where I get to roll around in the floor and wrestle, or we are out in the yard barefoot splashing each other with water. My treasured girl time where I felt so pretty is replaced by a boy who loves to throw dirt (he will eat it too if you don’t catch him fast enough.) I have become a girl who is replaced by being a mother. And although society doesn’t see the beauty in this, I see it. I see the mothers in their yoga pants and running shoes with their hair quickly thrown into a ponytail. And these women are taking care of their children and they are more beautiful than any super model.
Beauty isn’t about the person we see on the outside and how long it took them to become that way. Beauty is not caring about the looks, the high fashion, and the even higher heels. Beauty is born on the inside. It is a person caring only about another person, never giving a second thought to their own looks.