Is it time to let it go?

When I was in my 30s, I bought a pair of vintage shoes from one of the shops in Kensington Market here in Toronto. They were faux alligator pumps, a gorgeous, deep shade of brown, with pointed toes and what I found out are called “kitten heels”--same shape as high heels, but much lower, yet still fashionable. 

I adored those shoes. I wore them only on special occasions and took incredibly good care of them.

Then, a few years later, I developed bunions. I had to stop wearing high heels, I got orthotics to put in all my shoes, and I bought a shoe stretcher to make new shoes more comfortable. 

But my orthotics wouldn’t fit into my favorite pumps (or any other fancy shoes, actually). If I had to attend a special occasion such as a wedding, I’d wear a more comfortable pair of pumps without the orthotics, as I could manage just a few hours indoors. But I couldn’t do that with the vintage ones; they still hurt my feet too much.

I was angry that I couldn’t wear them; I cursed my bad feet and had many a hissy fit when I wanted to wear something that would have been a perfect match for them. I mourned my inability to wear the shoes. I kept them, perfectly preserved, in a box in my closet, and once in a while, I’d pull them out and try them on, just to see if they still hurt. 

They did. 

I knew they’d hurt my feet if I wore them, but I just couldn’t part with them. And every time I looked at them, I felt bad, knowing that they didn’t fit me any more. 

So why I am sharing this story? 

Because it’s sort of like saying, “I love food with gluten. I get horrible stomach pains and a rash every time I eat gluten, but I love it too much to give it up. And I’ve eaten it all my life, and it’s so important to me. . . I just can’t figure out how I can eat gluten and not have all that pain and those debilitating symptoms.” 

Do you see the lack of logic in this? 

t finally hit me: why would I hang on to something that is clearly no longer useful for me and more likely even harmful (my bunions would get much worse if I wore those shoes), when I knew they weren’t my friend?  

So I gave the shoes to charity, and I went out and bought shoes that don’t hurt my feet. Shoes I can wear when I walk my dogs, or go for a hike in the park, or dance in my living room, or go to friends’ houses (when I *can* go back to friends’ houses). . . and so on. 

And now, I love my new shoes. I don’t care if people think they’re “nerdy” or stereotypically “Boomer” style. . . I know that they support my feet, never hurt, and allow me to do the things I want to do. What could be bad about that? 

When it comes to your diet, I think it’s worth asking a similar question. Why hang on to foods that no longer serve you? 

The first step for anyone who really wants to stick with it is to accept what is. If your body no longer is able to process sugar, or gluten, or nuts, or whatever--then that’s the reality. It doesn’t make sense to continue behaving as if it weren’t true, because it is. 

Once you learn to embrace the reality of your new diet, it will become so much easier to leave the old foods behind, and find something new--something that might just end up being more comfortable, a better fit for your body, and worth loving even more.

Is there something you're hanging on to that doesn't serve your best health?

Ricki Heller helps women stick with their restricted diets so they can love their food again, lose their symptoms and get back to living their best lives. Find her at rickiheller.com or email at [email protected].