On most day, I believe that my body is pretty cool.
Everything works and I am wildly lucky for that.
I do, however, have two body parts that are unavoidably different from the norm. I have gross feet. The skin on my feet is scaly, and my toenails, unhidden by polish, are yellowish and marked with white lines. I don't have a case of athlete's foot that you can vanish with lotromin; I have lifelong gross feet.
I saw a foot doctor from the age of seven with my mom hoping to solve my embarrassing problem. I knew my feet were not OK when I saw the pristine little cherub feet of my friends at sleepovers.
My socks did not come off after that. I'd use any excuse I had to keep them on. My sister and her friend would tease me, "You still have those Fred Flinstone feet?" or "I don't want to sleep in the same bed with her crusty feet." Trips to the pool brought on anxiety unfit for a kid. Once the water dried off, my monster feet started to show. I'd curl my toes, trying my best to make them invisible. I'd sit crosslegged and hide them behind my knees. I curled my toes so hard, so often, at 32 my toes are little curly Fritos.
The doctor was little help.
The prescribed treatment was to soak my feet in bleach. Now it seems absurd and poisonous, but it was routine for me to have my little once-a-week footbath, sitting on the edge of the tub hoping for immediate results while they soaked in hot water and bleach. To this day, the edges of my feet are red. They look perpetually angry. Sorry, feet.
I've seen my gross feet on other family members, so I guess it's just hereditary. I am more at peace with them as I get older, but I still have some issues. LIKE:
1. Having a new boyfriend. Hooking up is really cool when you're embarrassed of your feet. I always wonder if a relationship will get far enough to have the "foot talk." One musician boyfriend joked, "If we [his band] ever make it big, we're going to buy you some new feet."
2. When I shop for sandals, I kind of shut down. I just aim for maximum coverage and get the F out of my personal hell you call a shoe store. Flip flops? No way.
3. "No shoes inside" houses. Really? I just came to your house for the first time, I don't know you well enough to take off my shoes! Look at you with your magazine feet. You are adorable.
So you may ask yourself, what is this lady going to do about her feet? I do a few things.
I have this lotion that I apply and will do so religiously if I have a boyfriend (before we admit we are both slobs and have real problems).
That makes it a little better. Oh, and I Google search "gross feet." Try it -- you'll feel like you have superstar feet. It makes me feel a little more normal.