I paid a visit to my former workplace and as I walked down the long hallway one of my former co-workers nudged another and pointed to me. When I got within earshot of them they both left their desks to greet me with hugs and exclaimed, “Libby, you look so different but we knew it was you by that walk of yours.” I could only laugh because, oh my, yes– my walk!
My love/hate relationship with ‘my walk’ began when at the age of six, my doctor prescribed orthopedic boots. Picture ankle-length, military boots on a prissy little girl who constantly told EVERYONE she was pretty, and you’ll get the picture.
Prior to those boots I had no idea that my walk was different, after all the goal of walking is to arrive at your destination and I did that just fine— like everyone else, one foot in front of the other; or so I thought. Plus, everyone always commented on how cute it was, so how could it be wrong?
Unfortunately, the boots only managed to make me walk less on my tippy-toes by compensating with the rest of my foot. Meaning that not only do I have a distinct look to my walk (some of my funnier friends call me penguin), but I also have a distinct LOUD sound, hence my co-workers ability to * see me* coming a mile away.
But as much as I dislike my walk and the sound it makes, and wish that its cuteness in my childhood translated to sexy in adulthood, it is not so. So what’s a girl to do? Curse it? Sure, that’s one answer but the better answer has been to accept it and better yet, embrace it.
I love the fact that those who know me do so from a mile away. It makes me, well, me! Truth be told, it’s not even as unique as it used to be since we realized my eight year old nephew inherited my walk, but it’s something that he and I share and that makes it even more special.
In a world where everyone, especially those of the female gender — young girls in particular — are trying, and sometimes even dying, to fit a mold that they weren’t made from; we often focus more on looking like each other than caring about each other, and that is sad!
I say let’s revolt against the molds and add a little bit of color into a world of sameness; because although we are collectively many things — human, men or women, Latinos, white, black, etc… — and fit into many categories, the most important thing we are and can be is a ‘me, myself and I’ who cares about another ‘me, myself and I.’
What makes you unique?
A Libby Blog 