an open letter to my ankle

Dear Ankle:

First, let me start off my expressing my sincerest apologies for years and years (decades, if I’m being frank) of completely taking you for granted. “My feet hurt,” I may have complained now and then, but did I give you the respect you deserve? No. I cursed nicks in the shower over your difficult-to-shave bony protuberances that seemed to bleed forever. But did I ever consider what you, conduit to my feet, endured physically and emotionally?

Hindsight is 20/20. Now I see how cruelly I abused you with each pair of sky high heels, each precarious walk on an uneven sidewalk, each high intensity exercise I engaged in. And all without the smallest of thanks.

(Sorry and thank you for heavy ankle weights, four-inch heels, jumping jacks, marathons, boots that blistered, dull razors, careless bumps, and all other infractions.)

Like much in life, we don’t know how good we have something until we don’t have it anymore. It may seem shitty of me to find appreciation for you now that I can’t use you, but I offer my gratitude regardless. I love you, who will forever bear the screws and scars of my slip. I love you, even as you throb and swell and press against the tight boundaries of my cast. (I hope that means you’re healing.) And I promise to take better care of you when you are freed from plaster confinement.

A token of my affection: I’ve already given away two pairs of boots that must have felt like torture chambers to you.

As we move forward together, I want to conclude by letting you know how much I love standing on two feet and appreciate the role you play in my bipedalism.

Affectionately yours,

Chelsea

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4 thoughts on “an open letter to my ankle”

  1. I love this so much. The other day when I slipped off my deck and broke my toe, I also bumped my right forearm on the railing and now have a lovely purple bruise only an inch from where my fracture was. I cried, sure my foot hurt and sure it was scary to slip and fall again but the thing that upset me the most was hurting my arm again. Not the pain, but just feeling it had already been through so much, it didn’t deserve this. I need to be a better caretaker for it… and for the rest of my body. It works hard, damn hard and I should respect and care for it as much as I do my child. Gosh, I’m tearing up just writing this!

    1. You broke your toe? WTH? When does it end? But yes, we rush through so much of life and don’t pay attention to the true vehicle that gets us there. I hope you heal fast… and slow down! xo

  2. sweet 🙂

    Just to let you know…it you wrote paris instead of pairs. Or maybe that’s the 2 glasses of bubbles I had with lunch..

    On Tue, Mar 1, 2016 at 9:50 AM, the chelsea chronicles wrote:

    > chelseahenderson posted: “Dear Ankle: First, let me start off my > expressing my sincerest apologies for years and years (decades, if I’m > being frank) of completely taking you for granted. “My feet hurt,” I may > have complained now and then, but did I give you the respect you deserv” >

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