Old Shoes

When I was little, I wasn't very good at keeping my room clean. When it got so bad that my mom would tell me to "make a path" before bed so she wouldn't trip over books and toys when saying goodnight to me, I would meet the "three piles"- keep, give away, throw away. 

I didn't like the second or third piles very much. 

The system worked like this: my mom would hold something, like a book or stuffed animal, and ask me "keep, give, or throw away?", and I would tell her what I wanted to do with it. Occasionally, there would be a few things that I didn't feel any sort of attachment to anymore, and they were usually donated. However, usually I much rather preferred to keep my books, my stuffed animals, and my dolls. 

I haven't changed much since. Of course, I'm far more willing to give, and about twice a year I look over my belongings and decide what I do and don't use and donate what I'm not attached to anymore, but for things that hold sentimental value? They stay with me for as long as possible.

Take my old gray shoes as an example. I have had these shoes for about a year and a half now and have worn them almost every day since I got them. I wore them around England and Scotland, I wore them on many school trips and events, and I wore them when I started at a new school.  To put it plainly, I have formed quite an attachment to these shoes purely because of the memories I made while wearing them. So when the hole by my right pinky toe got so noticeable that you could see my red elephant socks, I knew that my mom was right. I needed new shoes. It wasn't that I was against the idea of new shoes, or that I thought it would be a waste to get them, I simply didn't want to let go of the memories attached to my old gray ones. The thing is, though, the memories don't disappear when the shoes do. In fact, my new pair of shoes are just that- new. They've made room for new memories, new experiences, and new adventures. I am still an incredibly sentimental person, I'm just a sentimental person with purple shoes instead of gray ones. 

Change isn't easy for anyone, and in many cases, it comes with feelings of loss. Whether you're moving or starting something new, change feels like a loss of the familiar. But sometimes the unfamiliar isn't a bad thing. Just like the purple shoes, it makes room for new memories, experiences, and adventures. It gives you a chance to become something different or expand on who you already are. It can fix the holes and clean the dirt and make you feel new and fresh. Sure, it's still scary and you need to break yourself in a little bit, but eventually, you'll look back on when everything was scary and different and realize that the blister is gone. You're comfortable and happy where and who you are.