"In conventional parlance, vanity is the excessive belief in one's own abilities or attractiveness to others," according to that virtual authority Wikipedia. I have always had a tug of war with vanity. I would never leave the house without a good outfit, groomed hair and make-up. But if I was hiking and camping I could care less what I looked like. In contrast, at the end of a sweaty day of hiking hubby cannot take me to a restaurant of any stature. I refuse to look that bad when eating dinner.
I had at least 25 pairs of shoes when I was working full time. Now I tend to purchase only sandals, tennis shoes, hiking shoes for this new life style but I have a dozen pairs of these in various styles and colors.
Today, the problem is that I can only wear two pairs of tennis shoes comfortably since my injury. Fortunately I have not been anywhere special in months and do not need fancy shoes. I rarely attend the holiday fund raisers that are around the corner. My mother wore tennis shoes to my daughter's wedding beneath her long dress. I honestly thought she was just being difficult, but now I realize I was the one who was being difficult. Her feet had not been in fancy shoes for years and she was not going to be in pain all evening just for us. She was never a vain woman. I remember giving her a magazine haircut when I was 13 or 14 and being so proud of how she looked. She just seemed amused.
Today I tend to begin to limp and walk slower if I have been on my feet for hours. We take a flat long walk down a wooded trail and I find my vanity forces me to try to hide the limp and to try and walk more steadily, in spite of any pain in doing that, if I see other hikers! I get irritated that hikers pass us on the trial when I remember I was the trail blazer in past. If we stop to chat I find it necessary to explain my ankle injury so they know I don't walk like this without reason. This must be vanity.
Recently, I had one of the clerks in the department store offer me a wheelchair from the front of the store and it took all my resolve not to deck him! I try to hurry when people hold the door to the Post Office open for me, embarrassed that I cannot walk faster.
How do people with permanent handicaps show such dignity as they hike through life?
I had at least 25 pairs of shoes when I was working full time. Now I tend to purchase only sandals, tennis shoes, hiking shoes for this new life style but I have a dozen pairs of these in various styles and colors.
Today, the problem is that I can only wear two pairs of tennis shoes comfortably since my injury. Fortunately I have not been anywhere special in months and do not need fancy shoes. I rarely attend the holiday fund raisers that are around the corner. My mother wore tennis shoes to my daughter's wedding beneath her long dress. I honestly thought she was just being difficult, but now I realize I was the one who was being difficult. Her feet had not been in fancy shoes for years and she was not going to be in pain all evening just for us. She was never a vain woman. I remember giving her a magazine haircut when I was 13 or 14 and being so proud of how she looked. She just seemed amused.
Today I tend to begin to limp and walk slower if I have been on my feet for hours. We take a flat long walk down a wooded trail and I find my vanity forces me to try to hide the limp and to try and walk more steadily, in spite of any pain in doing that, if I see other hikers! I get irritated that hikers pass us on the trial when I remember I was the trail blazer in past. If we stop to chat I find it necessary to explain my ankle injury so they know I don't walk like this without reason. This must be vanity.
Recently, I had one of the clerks in the department store offer me a wheelchair from the front of the store and it took all my resolve not to deck him! I try to hurry when people hold the door to the Post Office open for me, embarrassed that I cannot walk faster.
How do people with permanent handicaps show such dignity as they hike through life?
The first time I ever twisted my knee enough to require a limp and slow me down, I was in my 30s. I remember thinking that's how it'll be someday. It isn't yet but it likely will be. I don't relish the idea either.
ReplyDeleteI understand your discomfort with limping. I'm slowly recovering from a very bad ankle sprain, myself and still limp pretty distinctively. I do try to focus on what I can do.. that I can finally wear a shoe (that took two months) and that I will continue healing. I'm very grateful for that.. if not a bit impatient. ;)
ReplyDeleteIs it vanity or is it just hard to realize the new limits we have at times. Glad you're moving and making progress.
ReplyDeleteI guess you could call it vanity but I would prefer to say that you are just not used to being "handicapped". And this is a hard place to be. Time is working on you and soon you will be taking this all in stride. We humans have a wonderful way of adapting. Look at Gabby Gifford!! Now there is a shiny example for us all!
ReplyDeleteHugging you
SueAnn
I've been handicapped all my life by low vision. And I've always looked very different, pale skin and hair. You learn to cope, to try and fit in, to pass. You get a very tough skin, you learn to disregard others opinions. You find your own style to be vain about. You learn to protect yourself from bullies, physically and emotionally. And probably best of all, you learn what is of real value in your own life and relationships. Vanity assumes it's relative importance.
ReplyDeleteI hate the aging process too. I get annoyed when I can't do what I used to do....
ReplyDeletePeople with disabilities have to be tough in ways that the rest of us don't realize.
ReplyDeleteI completely sympathize with your frustrations here. Gradually you are getting your mojo back, though, and I won't be surprised to learn that in a few months you are again tearing up the trail.
Sneakers are always in, at least in my book.
It's hard to be patient, but hopefully things will get better soon. Comfort before all else is my moto.
ReplyDelete"Recently, I had one of the clerks in the department store offer me a wheelchair from the front of the store and it took all my resolve not to deck him! I try to hurry when people hold the door to the Post Office open for me, embarrassed that I cannot walk faster."
ReplyDeleteOh I got a good laugh from that quote of yours. I feel the same way often. You are much younger than I am but I share some of your frustrations as I creep along.
I have more clothes now than I ever did but hardly go anywhere and the seasons change so fast that I barely have a chance to wear them. Also, I still tend to go for my few favorites when I do have occasions to wear more interesting clothes.
ReplyDeleteI enjoyed reading about your life via shoes. It reminds me of a life timeline I once wrote based on couches I have owned (and lost in divorce etc).
I can relate because I broke a toe and it had a surprising impact on my walking for a long time. It does make you think about how it might be to not have full recovery to look forward to. But I like that someone said that we all have something that we are vain about.
ReplyDeletei think in some ways it is how you look at it...we dont want to appear weak but we would probably feel better in the wheel chair if we accepted it...it does carrya fear though as we dont want to be dependant, but...injuries such as these can bring a great humbling...
ReplyDelete