STEPPING INTO STRENGTH: hOW A pAIR OF BLUE SHOES CHANGED ME

Recently, I received several boxes of my childhood things from my parents. I had no idea these little blue shoes would trigger me so deeply. Growing up in the 70s, my mom put me in pageants. Back then, the competitions were based on interview skills, talent, and a fancy party dress you could twirl around in. We styled our hair BIG—because it’s Texas, y’all—and we didn’t wear makeup. We took on a more natural look.

I remember wearing blue shoes with a blue and cream–colored dress. I would walk the runway, twirl, and then pose. I won every pageant except one.

With therapy I have come to realize that my days in pageants played a significant role in the insecurities I carried growing up. Getting dressed in a room full of strangers, being argued with and threatened by my mom to get my butt on that stage, walking the runway to be judged. Sure, I won trophies, but they came at a price. My self-esteem was always in question: Am I pretty enough? Does this outfit look right on me? Everyone is staring at me. If I don’t win, Mom will be angry.

It wasn’t just me wearing those blue shoes and walking the runway. It was everything that happened in the dressing room behind the stage that affected me the most.

Words can be just as harmful as actions, especially for children whose sense of self is still developing. When a child is repeatedly met with criticism, ridicule, or hostility, those messages become internalized and begin to shape how they see themselves and their worth. Children rely on caregivers for safety and affirmation, so when language is used to tear them down rather than build them up, it undermines confidence, disrupts healthy development, and creates wounds that can last well into adulthood.

I’m currently in therapy, and maybe because of the season I’m in, this analogy came to mind: I like to think of myself as a tree. When you plant a new tree, it is delicate—you must water it and stake it to help it grow strong. I see myself as the trunk and my arms as the branches. Each time I complete a therapy session, a leaf falls to the ground and blows away. Each leaf represents a piece of me letting go of something I’ve held onto for far too long. These blue shoes are just one of the “leaves” I’ve released recently.

I’m excited to continue sharing my stories and my journey to healing.

Blessings,

Stacie