I had once tried to fill the copious space of my mother's heels in the occasional play of dress-up. The luster intrigued my curious eyes. The clack represented the heightened stature of authority that a grown-up wielded. At such a young age, I only desired to be like what I see, not what I know, because my eyes offer so much more answers than my mind can comprehend...at the time.
As I grew up, I grew out of my play-shoes. The muddy sneakers worn down to the soles now find solace amongst the attic dust. My chromatic plastic sandals are losing the twinkle that once lit up my adolescent heart. Stowed away and stored are the actions that they must now take.
Soon, I begin to mature into the world of professionalism. Business suits have become the main attire I sport. I sometimes think back about the time I used to wear my mother's heels for fun. If I had only known at the time, that being grown-up is not on par with what I had imagined. Maybe, just maybe, I would have traded my mother's heels to run outside ... barefoot under the splash of sunlight.
-A
No comments:
Post a Comment