Recently, I made a questionable decision regarding my choice of footwear at the park. I opted for my favorite black canvas sneakers, which my friend Jamie jokingly referred to as my “skater shoes.” They lack proper support, yet I adore their appearance. They exude a youthful vibe—simple, fun, and effortlessly cool. They embody the carefree life I aspire to lead.
However, I’m now dealing with the consequences of wearing those sneakers while running around. My shins are in agony—so much that I resorted to taking three extra-strength pain relievers. Perhaps that was one too many.
But oh, the joy we experienced! We dashed back and forth between the “younger kid area” and the “older kid zone.” My daughter is at that delightful age where everything is fresh and exciting for both of us.
In those sneakers, I kept pace with her as she tackled the rock wall, bounded over the wobbly bridge, and slid down the “big, beautiful tunnel” slide, as she affectionately named it. Those shoes allowed me to push aside my claustrophobia and fear of heights, propelling me to embrace the thrill of the moment. They transformed me into a version of myself I thought I had lost—a fun-loving mom who is present and engaged.
I found myself moving quicker, almost instinctively, because that’s what those sneakers seemed to demand. They are the kind of shoes that kids wear, that trendy young moms wear, and I’m sure my “inner child” wouldn’t mind slipping them on.
Now, I’m contemplating a change in my hairstyle. The phrase I keep repeating is, “I love ____, but I’m too old for that.” Whether it’s pastel pink, vibrant lavender, or a bold dark auburn, I overthink every option. This leads me to question my right to express myself and how I want to look. Browsing through hairstyles online quickly turns into an existential crisis. While my hair remains stagnant, I continue to evolve.
I strive to be bold and confident in my own skin. I’m learning not to overanalyze the consequences of sporting brightly colored hair or quirky accessories. And I refuse to think that I’m too old to pursue the two dreams I’ve always cherished: being a mother and a writer.
I’m crafting my own narrative now—one that includes wearing those questionable sneakers, even if it means enduring a bit of pain afterward. I will experiment with unconventional hair colors soon. No longer will I second-guess the things that spark joy in my life; I will fully embrace them.
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In summary, it’s time to stop overthinking my choices, whether in fashion, appearance, or career paths. Embracing my individuality and taking risks is what makes life vibrant and fulfilling.