The first 11 years of my life, I grew up on Harrison Street in Noblesville. I loved living in town. I have many fond memories of cruising the streets on my bicycle and walking to school (yes, that was hard for me, but good for me, too). A memory from those days came rushing to the surface a few days ago. I love it when a good memory bulldozes its way through my brain.
My sister had a pair of white clogs. I thought they were the coolest shoes I had ever seen. I longed to wear them one day. I was happy to take those on as a hand-me-down. I watched her wear them and I thought, “one day those babies will be all mine!”
There was one slight problem with that dream I was dreaming. The actual shoe itself was the very problem. You see, I had a very limited selection of shoes I could choose from. Picture a five-year-old wearing an orthopedic-looking shoe designed for someone much older. That is what was in my realm of possibilities. I often had metal leg braces attached to said shoes. My options weren’t too desirable for a young girl who wanted to wear the same shoes her sister and friends were wearing.
If you are familiar with the town of Noblesville, we lived on the east end of Harrison Street near the old high school, a good distance from where the old Dairy Queen was. If you are not familiar with that area, it was not a short walk, especially for a girl who had a tough time walking.
As soon as my parents announced we would be walking to Dairy Queen that night, for some reason, I became obsessed with the thought of debuting those amazing clogs on the walk to get our ice cream. By this time, they almost “fit” me. In my mind, there was nothing that could go wrong. Denial is a part of survival in certain instances. Of course, my parents looked at me like I was nuts when I suggested that I wear the clogs. I was not giving up. Eventually, I guess they decided, I needed to learn my lesson. They were not wrong.
From the get-go it was rocky. I had not even left the sidewalk in the front of our house when I had the first inkling that my shoe choice was not such a clever idea. They were quite difficult to walk in and keep on my feet because of my gait. I will say that I powered through and somehow made it about halfway to the good ol’ DQ before I admitted defeat. I was crushed. I am sure some part of me knew that it wouldn’t work. Let’s just say, my dad’s shoulders got a workout that evening carrying me the rest of the way, and then all the way home.
I never wore the white clogs again, but I have (and sometimes still do) made many more poor shoe decisions. One of the fun things about going places in my wheelchair is that it allows me to be a little more adventurous with my shoes. It’s been a fun discovery. The white clogs could be a real possibility these days.
For walking shoes, I enjoy finding cool sneakers and wearing them with all kinds of different outfits. What a fun time to be alive with the current sneaker selection. My sister and I sometimes go on shoe adventures together. She is kind enough to oblige me and try on any shoe I want her to that I could never wear. We have made a lot of funny shoe memories together. What can I say, I’m crazy about shoes, and I guess I always have been. In my mind, if people are going to stare at my feet, I will at least make them look good!
These days, there are several companies designing more current-looking shoes for those who wear leg braces. Many who have started these companies were in situations like mine and wanted to make a change for others. Unfortunately, or fortunately depending on how you look at it, I have passed the shoe loving bug on to my two sons. My oldest son is currently on a mission to design the perfect shoe for me. How awesome is that?
Until next time …
Amy Shinneman is a former National Ambassador for the Muscular Dystrophy Association, disability blogger, wife, and mom of two boys. You can find her blog at humblycourageous.com and reach her on Instagram @ashinneman.