September 24, 2020

For the first time, I am investing my time and energy on self care.

And I’m starting with my feet.

I’ll explain.

Ever since I can remember, I have had very dry feet.

Cracked heels, dry tough soles, covered in flaky parched skin.

My kids would ask if it hurt that my heels were so cracked they would split open and bleed.

My husband would complain that he felt like I was sawing off his feet when my cold rough feet searched for his on chilly nights.

My mother wondered out loud (as mothers often do) how anyone can get their feet in such bad shape and not want better for themselves?

I’ve secretly wondered the same.

But my dry feet were familiar to me. Something I’ve always known to be no matter how far back I think.

I became accustomed to them. 

The ripped socks, the painful cuts, and the embarrassing appearance.

I believed they were unsalvageable. That there was too much effort to care for them. I would just “live with it”. 

Like I was tolerating my own self.

But the more I get older, the more I am wanting better for myself; the more I am realize how important the health and appearance of my feet are.

These feet have taken me to places I never imagined I’d go.

Digging deep into soft sand, at the shores of the Atlantic, taking in the majesty of the morning sun, as it rose over the ocean.

Or from walking up to the barren invisible border dividing Alaska from the wild Yukon Territory, a place I had only read about but never imagined to see.

These feet have taken me every step of the way in my adventures.

They have stood firmly in uncomfortable public places that didn’t want me there.

They rescued me from the spaces I didn’t want to be in.

I let my children stand atop my feet to give them a bumpy ride in their early years.

And walked them nervously to their first days unsure if they were ready to face independence and the world.

These feet are the unsung heroes of my life journeys.

They have held me up when all I was able to do was fall down.

So it’s symbolic, really.

The care for the forgotten, worn down piece of me that has been crying out for a long time.

I am finally listening.

And so I am giving them the time and care they need.

I am scraping off the dead weight that has been no benefit to us.

I am moisturizing them with thick creams and lotions to revive them and awaken the life inside of them that has been locked out for far too long.

It’s time to lovingly care for myself and acknowledge the life that has worn us down.

It’s time to care for my feet. 

-Tumkeen, Writer

Image may contain: shoes

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