i'll take the physical challenge: a daring, high-heeled post

From the time I was a baby, I have always been motivated by challenges.  When someone tells me I can’t do something, it fuels my desire and ability to prove them wrong.  I guess sometimes I need a little push in order to realize my potential.  

My mom loves to tell the story of how I learned to walk.  As the first grandchild on my father’s side, I was constantly being held and passed around and hadn’t yet learned to get around on my own.  As far as babies go, I was a real chunker and one day my mom decided I was too heavy to carry and set me down in the grass and walked away from me.  She said I reached my sausage-link arms in the air so she would pick me up, so she said, “if you want me, come over here.” Apparently, this made me very angry and after a few minutes of tantrum, I slammed my tiny fists on the ground, stood up, and walked over to her screaming.  Viola! I could walk.

see? i wasn't kidding about being a chunky baby. 

My next challenge came when I was five years old and my extended family was on vacation at the Jersey shore (fist pump!).  Family friends came to visit for the day and they had a daughter who was a bit younger than I.  We were all sitting around the living room and the girl's mother was explaining how her daughter had just learned to read.  The girl took out a book and started to read aloud; everyone was impressed - everyone except me.  Maybe I just didn’t like the attention she was getting, but I walked over to the coffee table, picked up a copy of Tikki Tikki Tembo, cracked that sucker open and started to read as though I’d been doing it for years. Brat.

The next time I can remember acquiring a skill after being dared was when I learned to ride a two-wheel bike.  My little brother, Mr. I’m-Awesome-At-All-Things-Physical, started riding his bike without training wheels and I still couldn’t.  One summer day, he was outside riding his bike with some friends.  As they rode down the street, on their way to the pool my mom asked me if it bothered me that my younger brother knew how to ride a bike and I didn’t.  She told me I’d be missing out on fun if I didn’t learn and didn’t understand what I was waiting for.  No more waiting necessary. I grabbed my pink, Desert Rose Huffy, hopped on the banana seat in my Umbros and after a few wobbles was peddling down the pavement towards the pool.

What's the deal? I'm confident and capable, so why do I wait to be pushed to a precipice in order to gain new skills? I’m a pretty fearless individual, but I’ve never been able to figure out what it is about my personality that thrives on being dared to do something. 

Recently, I was faced with the daunting task of walking in high heels.  Although I may make feminists cringe, I did it for a guy.  I mean, not really for him but because he liked the idea of seeing a tall girl in heels.  I guess I took it half as a challenge and half as a way to impress him. Sue me.  Being 5’ 11”, I don't wear heels often because I don't need to; it's not uncommon for me to be the tallest person, let alone girl in the room.  I find that most guys are intimidated (turned off?...let's go with intimidated) by by height, so I rock flats most of the time. Ok, I guess I need to admit that the other reason I don't often don a pair of stilettos is because I have trouble walking in them. What girl doesn't love standing in front of the mirror looking at her legs in a pair of heels?  Go on, I dare you (get it?) to do it and not develop an immediate crush on yourself.  Standing in heels: no problem. Out on the town in heels: I feel like I'm being punished for a crime I didn't commit...until recently.

a view from the top: my slutty halloween get-up, complete with 4 inch heels

Maybe it sounds very Betty Draper of me to be learning to walk in heels because a guy said he liked it.  I'd be lying if I didn't say that's what got me to DSW in the first place, but after trying on a few pairs and walking around I thought, "I can do this!" I can bring the way I feel standing in front of my mirror together with walking like Heidi Klum on the runway.  I wanted to do it, for myself.  So, three pairs of heels later, I had a new challenge.  

My test run was out to the bars.  I was nervous, scared and my toes were totally pissed but i put on a pair of skinny jeans and the 4" Steve Madden platform pumps and hit the town.  Because I get a lot of comments on my height, I wasn't looking forward to making the leap from 5'11" to 6'2" but as I entered the first watering hole, I didn't feel any taller than usual and I noticed I wasn't nearly the tallest person in the room.  Better yet, I wasn't dying of discomfort and was surprised at how easily I could maneuver in my lofty footgear.  I was so comfortable in fact, I decided to hit the dance floor.  I thought I was just shuffle away from a broken ankle, but after 3 songs, I was still standing!  

Going home that night, I realized that walking in heels wasn't as difficult as I made it out to be.  Actually, it made me feel beautiful and confident.  Since practice makes perfect, I wear heels out often now and I can say that I walk in them like a champion!  I love the way I feel when I master a new skill, now I just need to learn how to push myself to do it.

Although, sadly, things didn't work out with Mr. Heels, I would love to thank him for my new ability (seriously.  I kind of feel one step closer to being a superhero).  Thanks guy! Now, I can and will walk for miles in any sized heel you throw at me.  I may even be able to play basketball in a pair of these bad boys.  Anyone want to dare me?