I love pedicures. I simply love them. Few activities are as simple, yet as validating and enjoyable, as receiving a nice, long, relaxing pedicure.
I schedule pedicures with regularity, and I look forward to each and every one. My nail tech, who owns the salon I visit, is a fantastic woman who treats me no differently than any other female client. She works magic with my toes, puts me at complete ease, and allows me to be myself, speak my mind, and express myself. She is a kind, gentle, beautiful soul that loves life in all of its glorious, magnificent facets.
And once again, one week ago, she performed the seemingly impossible – she transformed what are otherwise average blah man toes into something entirely different. Through her efforts, she instilled and imparted an obvious and beautiful sense of femininity, color, and art unto my toes that I love, love, love. She is truly magnificent at her craft, and I appreciate greatly all that she does for me.
BUT, the thing is, I am no longer happy keeping such things to myself. I want to share the beauty of her work with the world, whether the world cares to appreciate it or not.
As such, every opportunity I have had alone to be out and about in the outside world over the past week, I have done so wearing open toed sandals. I have visited grocery stores, convenience stores, gas stations, restaurants, retail stores, and several malls, for example.
During this time, my confidence has grown immensely. I have walk around in shorts, which more than expose and show off my long, shaved, smooth feminine legs, followed by the wearing of open toed sandals that display my femmed out toes.
And I was doing well, too, until I started noticing the stares. Slowly but surely, the more who noticed my toes, the more who stared, talked, and pointed. To these people, I simply smiled back, and moved on. In fact, I kind of thought it was funny, in some disturbing way.
Earlier today, however, in a mall I was visiting, I was subjected to several attacks by teenage girls who felt some need to stalk me down, point me out, laugh, and make fun of me because of my toes and legs. These girls were mercilessly mean. They exhibited a complete lack of understanding, caring, and compassion. Put another way, these girls lacked complete human decency and respect for their fellow man (woman). It was a shameful display of discrimination and taunting. Yet there it was, and I was on the receiving end of these attacks.
The thing is, though, that this was not unexpected. Rationally, even though I had yet to experience a negative reaction from another, and given that I am increasing my exposure in the public arena, I knew such attacks would eventually occur. And in as much as I have anticipated such an occurence, I thought that would take the sting out of it all. It did not. The attacks hurt. The attacks saddened me. But the attacks did nothing to lessen my resolve and dedication. To say the least, this week has been a learning experience for me.
But what exactly is it that I have learned from this week’s experiences? Quite frankly, though, I am genuinely surprised how much attention my painted toes and shaved legs have garnered throughout my travels this week - I thought at most someone here and there would notice them, and that would be it. But it has been soooo much more than that.
What really gets me, though, is that out of the thousands and thousands of people I have been around this week, despite all the stares, looks, pointing, laughing, and talking behind my back, not one random person has come up to me and said “Your nails are beautiful,” or “I really like you pedi.” Not one. If I let that get to me, it would be kind of depressing.
If, however, I let any of this get to me, though, it would be depressing. The thing is, I ain’t going to let that happen. These people are not capable of bringing me down. I am me, goddammit!!!! It has taken me my entire adult life time to recognize how the hell I am, and I am not going to back away from it all now! So as far as I am concerned, they can keep staring, pointing, talking behind my back, and laughing at me. But it ain’t going to change one bit how I conduct business. I have worked too hard and too long to acquire the courage (such that it is) that I currently maintain. I will not allow some intolerant, misguided, perverse, uneducated, silly ignorant folk to strip this all away from me. I just will not allow that to happen.
Regardless, I love my toes. I am proud of my toes. I believe my toes are beautiful. And I want to share my toes with any who shall rise to the challenge of seeing me for the real, authentic, genuine person that I am, and appreciate me for the same. I know such people are out there. Or at least I have been led to believe they are. I continue to keep the faith, though. And I now believe in myself more than I ever have before . . . .
So I am going to continue shaving me legs. I am going to continue wearing open toed sandals that show off my pedis. I am going to continue going out dressed en femme when the opportunity presents itself.
Sure, though, I do not like being laughed at. I do not like being made fun of. But really, who the hell are those people anyways? I don’t know them, they don’t know me. So **** them, I say. They no longer hold the sway over me they once did. Nor will they ever again.
But when it comes right done to it, what I really think their problem may be, is that they were jealous of my pedi, and wanted one of their own. Maybe I am completely off-base on this observation, but here are some pics of my current pedi so that you may arrive at your own conclusion. Were they jealous of mine? Or were they right to make fun of my pedi? You be the judge . . . . .
If you don't like the way I'm livin', you just leave this long haired country girl alone:
