In my closet, beneath the boxes of Christmas ornaments and the tote bag of therapy materials, sit my London shoes.
Bought in 1997, they are a well worn pair of crimson shoes that look like a man's dress shoe sized down for a woman.
20 years old, I bought them with my Christmas money for my Spring
semester abroad. They were different than what I normally wore and that
felt exciting.
My decision to study abroad was supported solely by my girlfriends. I
took out a loan to pay for the increased tuition. When the time came, I
hitched a ride to the airport with my girlfriend and her family.
At the airport family and students lingered over long goodbyes. Feeling
alone and uncertain about my decision but determined to see it through, I
was relieved when my friend John surprised me at the gate. Having just
returned from England, he shared some advice (that I forget now but
seemed serious at the time) and a few pounds.
My first night in London, my girlfriends and I stumbled out of a pub at
closing feeling very adventurous. A handsome group of rascally Kiwis
invited us to extend the night by joining them at an after hours club.
We were jet lagged and a bit lost in our new city.
Some of the group caught cabs back to the flat; a responsible decision, one I made 99% of the time.
But I was wearing my new London shoes. I wasn't feeling reckless but bold and brave from the legal pints I'd consumed:)
Standing on the cobble stone streets, these lyrics played in my mind,
"Make a left turn instead of a right and you could be someone different tonight"
So we did.
And we were.
I wore those shoes for 4 months. To Cambridge. To Wales. To Stone Henge. To work. To school. To the theater. To pubs.
Every step a decision to move towards something new.
Every step leading me to today.
