So, the foot thing.
I have been a starkly independent black woman since forever. I worked hard and ‘didn’t’ need a man. I cut my own grass, unclogged toilets, walked the dog, worked 2 jobs, trimmed hedges, moved furniture. Ha. I DID NOT need a man….and, I met some wonderful ones but I was so mean to them (this is a public apology to them all). I ruined a lot of relationships but no matter, I was happy to be alone. Better yet, in my later years, I was happy to be in relationships which were unfilling–nice but unfulfilling. I threw myself into my work, into soccer, into writing, into photography, into kung fu, into gardening, into jogging, into Netflix. I was happy. I thought that I really was.
I have often thought about how my childhood experiences shape my adult relationships with men. Yes, I had a tricky childhood–lots of people do. So tricky, in fact-that I’ve actually blocked a lot of it from my memory, as a coping mechanism, I guess. Yet, there are two people that serve as my memory from these difficult high school years-a girl and a guy and they each got me through some stuff– a whole lot of stuff. These are the 2 people with whom I can be totally and completely vulnerable. I can just be a wet noodle and let them take care of me: Stephanie and Larry (aka Foot). These are the friends that even though you don’t talk on a regular basis, you know and they know that there is a special place that can only be touched by them and with them.
I have spent many hours trying to track down both of these friends and they-me. Lots of near misses.Recently, I have reconnected with both of them but the subject of this blog is Foot.
I saw an advertisement in Essence once of a man and a woman sitting in adirondack chairs on a pier overlooking a body of water with the sunset in the background. I’ve always wanted this to be me and deep down inside, I thought that I could make it happen–find a guy, buy a chair, rent (I mean, buy) a place near the water and go for it. But being unyielding greatly lowers the prospect of this happening.
I reconnected with Foot by happenstance and instantly the high school turned mature 40 year old thing came flooding back. My prom date was back and my life changed in an instant. I am not the wet noodle that I was in high school but i’m not the rock that I was in my 20s and 30s. I’m yielding and flexible and open.
When I wrestled with the idea of starting a blog, I also wrestled with my public moniker. I went back and forth and really agonized over it–making lists again but then I realized that I am loved and it’s okay to say that publicly. Yep, I admit it. I want to be loved and I want to love fully. I’m still independent and a little bit mean (I use the word assertive now) but I am happy to be bound to someone who I know loves me and who I love right back. Yep, Footsgrl
As I was sitting in the hospital waiting room waiting for my dad’s never ending heart surgery to finish, who walks in (complete with work clothes on with a little grass here and there–must’ve been rushing from cutting the grass) but Foot (Larry) with a huge hug, words of encouragement and flowers. ahhhh, God is good and he keeps on blessing me.