Two days this week. Two days that I got to dress in normal clothes. Put on normal (instead of bad lighting and Microsoft Teams) make-up. And speak to normal (relatively 😈😈), actual, real life people.
It’s kinda shocking how ‘odd’ that feels after the year we’ve had. And how much I did-not-hate having to get out of the house. Excited to go to the office. Who knew.
What I DID get excited about was getting to wear shoes. Like. NICE shoes. Not fluffy housebound slippers. Or lazy socks. Or quickly slid on flats for ten minutes grocery shopping or ‘just something easy’ to make it from my door to his.
Nope. Yesterday I wore my pretty suede black little boots. And today it’s peeptoes. Sure. Maybe not ENTIRELY work-appropriate but sue me. They were begging me from the shoe drawer under my bed.
The thing about peeptoes, right…
Can you guess? It’s right there in the name after all. Your toes. They peep. Which means that your toenails are going to be visible. And lemme tell you, though I HAVE kept them painted throughout the pandemic (‘naked’ toenails look so freaky)…they haven’t exactly had regular touch-ups.
So this morning I find myself on the couch with 5 minutes before I have to leave – painting ONLY the two visible ones on each foot WITH the shoes already on, to cover various chips and growth. BAM. Feet look spliffy, shoes look great, life is good.
But I know that the rest of my toenails are a mess. I KNOW. Nobody else is going to see that. Nobody else is going to have a clue. I’m going to get compliments on the shoes. And the hair. And the dress. But way down below, hidden in these shoes. I’m a mess.
And that, my dear folks.
That is the strangest but most clear analogy for our mental wellbeing that I’ve ever found while getting dressed.
Because we so often put on a brave mask. We so often look all made up, and put together and well adjusted.
But you never know what’s going under the hood. In that head. Or behind the peeptoes.
So the next time you compliment someone on their shoes. Maybe also compliment them on their soul. They might need that a whole lot more, even when you don’t see it.