The Little Talked about Stress of Getting a Pedicure

Wedding Countdown--One day to go!

Today is mani/pedi day. Most people look forward to the pampering yet for me its a stressful, traumatic time. I used to enjoy it, at least that is until I decided I was going to put my writer's cap on a few years ago and try to look out the eyes of a professional manicurist/pedicurist. It was not a wise thing to do. What I saw was not pretty, especially when I thought about myself as the customer-it gave a whole new meaning to putting myself in someone elses shoes.

My feet are not a pretty sight. First of all they're big, a whopping size ten and whereas most people's toes are plump and round, ready for a cute game of "this little piggy", mine are long and bulbous. Both my big toes slant in towards the others because, as my parents always seem to remind me, that when I was small my toes grew that way because I wore a beloved pair of shoes too long.

When I'm scheduled to get a pedicure the lead up time is filled with self doubt and worry for the person who'll be sitting down working on my feet. It's similar to that feeling so many of us get when you have a housekeeper coming in to clean and there is this compulsive need to tidy the entire house before they arrive. You want them to think that you're not quite the slob you really are. In the days before my appointment everything to do with my feet seems bigger, coarser & dirtier. There are my gargantuan callouses, the grand canyon of cracks in my heels, the start of the bunion on my right foot and worst of all I'm terrified that my feet must smell. I set aside time the day or so before to soak my feet to get rid of any stench & to soften up the thick pads on my soles, hoping the professional won't be so judgemental on how much I neglect my feet. Then of course I have to shave my legs and feet just before leaving for the appointment because I wouldn't want to someone to figure out that I have "stubble" or that horror of horrors I have a few hairs growing on those so obviously horrendous misshapen toes.

When I actually get to the appointment & my feet are soaking the tension mounts. The woman-usually young, moves into position & lifts one of my feet to survey the damage. It's at this point in my nervousness that I compulsively start babbling & asking questions like, "how long have you been doing this" or "I guess you must see all kinds of different feet". What I'm really hoping for is one of those stories wherein the girl will tell me how the worst feet she ever had to work on was the homeless man whose feet were swollen from diabetes, he had ingrown toenails & hadn't bathed in a week. Once I hear and commiserate with her over that or a couple more feet horror stories I can heave a huge sigh of relief, knowing that my feet are not the worst in the world, and sit back and revel in the comfort that having a pedicure gives.

Happy toes to you.

Salynne