My feet are not deformed, but they’re weird. They’re definitely not pretty. I have bunions and then my middle toe kind of curls under. Bunions – even the word itself sounds ugly.
A friend of mine once asked while laying out…
“what happened to your middle toe? Is it cut off?”
An old dentist of mine said
“Wow, you have some funky toes.”
So I’ve hid them. I’ve had pedicures. I’ve cropped those piggies out of pictures.
I’ve had coworkers comment on them. My husband tells me (in love and humor) that I should be a foot model.
You get the gist.
Yet, all this time…thinking I’ve hated my feet and even considered cosmetic surgery, I’ve realized (more acknowledged) that I love my feet. All along. All this time.
I love the way they feel in the sheets. And I do this thing where I rub them together before I fall asleep. I love how when I get cold they kind of feel smaller, and I go put some fuzzy socks on to warm them up.
I was doing some humble yoga, laying on my back with my legs extended in the air. I was looking up at my feet. In that moment, I felt whole and happy in my own skin.
I was staring at them thinking of all they’ve done; part of my body, that’s part of my soul that belongs and is one with a gracious God.
God gave me these feet.
Learning to love yourself (or realizing that you’ve loved yourself all along but have allowed outside influences to make that illusory) isn’t easy.
We think we are supposed to look a certain way, and when we don’t, that it’s shameful.
But it’s us. It’s you. It’s me. It’s just how we were made. BEAUTIFUL.
Like my feet. These amazing, familiar, high-functioning, slightly-deformed feet…they’re mine.
And I’m grateful.