*This is a work of nonfiction based on actual events I experienced firsthand; used with permission.
My body issues and issues with my weight go back to my childhood. Worrying about my weight has become so ingrained from such an early age that I always think I'm fat, whether or not I am.
I spent my high school years weighing between 122-127 pounds on the scale, and I still thought I was fat. So when my boyfriend offered to carry me through the streets of Salem, Massachusetts after I said my feet hurt due to wearing inappropriate footwear for a walking tour, I initially said, "No way."
At five feet tall and weighing 127 pounds, I thought I was far too big and heavy to be carried. I was afraid of hurting my boyfriend's back, or worse, being dropped atop the same cobblestones that hurt my feet.
I never expected to be the type of person to wear high heels on a walking tour around Salem, Massachusetts. But, to my surprise, that's exactly what I ended up doing. As we made our way across the cobblestones, I quickly discovered it was too much for my feet to handle. The pain was so sharp that I had to ask my boyfriend for help. To my delight, he offered to carry me so I wouldn't have to feel the pain anymore.
At first, I felt embarrassed at the thought of him carrying me, but then I realized it would be the only way for me to make it through the tour. So I accepted his offer with a grateful heart. I felt like a princess being taken away from all my troubles in the arms of her prince. I still have fond memories of looking into the local shop windows while my boyfriend carried me in his arms. It was an experience that I'll never forget and will always cherish deep in my heart.
High heels may not be the ideal choice for a walking tour, but I'd always remember the tender moment my boyfriend shared with me while carrying me across the cobblestones. He didn't even complain.
I don't remember much about that day. I remember the cobblestones and how the skinny heel of my white leather boots caught in the spaces between them and threatened to pitch me face-first onto the street. And I remember my boyfriend coming to my rescue and allowing me to climb onto his back while he carried me all day without shame.
It's my fondest memory of my ex, who otherwise wasn't that great of a boyfriend although he was almost painfully handsome. At least, I'll always have my memories of Salem.
I still laugh at the thought of wearing high heels on a walking tour around Salem, Massachusetts. The experience was both painful and embarrassing, but it taught me an important lesson. Even when you least expect it, life can surprise you. So, even if it seems strange or silly to take certain risks, you never know where they may lead or the memories you may make.
What would you have done? Comments are welcome.
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