Glow by Lady E

  I have a pair of Charles & Keith sandals that I still think are pretty. That’s probably why they’ve survived this long. They’ve been with me for years.  They’re a soft blush pink, delicate without being overly feminine, with thin straps that wrap around the foot in that effortless-looking way that is never actually effortless to put on. They still look good. They’re still wearable. There is technically nothing wrong with them. Except they hurt. Not immediately, of course. That would make the decision much easier. For the first few minutes, they’re perfectly fine. I can walk around in them. I can look down at my feet and think, See? They’re still good. Then I walk a little farther. And the straps start making themselves known. A little pressure here. A little rubbing there. Nothing dramatic. Nothing that would make me stop in the middle of the mall and dramatically fling my shoes into a trash bin. Just enough discomfort to make me aware of my feet. And once...

  I used to choose things because they’re pretty or affordable, but I end up hurt.  Like two brands of slippers that shall not be named.  Now I choose things that are kind to my body. Soft, supportive, gentle.  Especially after my foot ached for better.  I think I’m learning to apply that standard to more things. Pretty is lovely. Fun is lovely. And I will probably always be drawn to something that sparkles. But I don’t think beauty should require me to tolerate discomfort just to keep it around. That applies to something as small as a pair of slippers. Or a hairbrush. This new brush is still glittery. Still pretty. Still something that makes me smile when I see it sitting with my things. But it also feels good. The bristles glide through my hair without scratching my scalp or catching strands between broken tips. It does what a hairbrush is supposed to do without asking me to endure something first. And maybe that’s one of the quieter forms of self-respect. Not...