My mother is the first minimalist that I ever knew. From early on, she taught us against wastefulness and the importance of having quality, necessary items. We learned early to enjoy the simplicities of life. Most of those times, she never had to say a word. Her actions were loud enough.
Growing up, she had a thing were she went through our stuff occasionally and picked out items she assumed we no longer needed especially from our clothes and shoes. She'd amend(if necessary), wash, iron them and package really well to be given to those she assumed that needed them. I didn't always like that act but something happened that changed my mindset. I'll save that story for some other day.
I'm big on drip. The fashionista of the house. And like a family thing, I love shoes. Everyone knew that. My big bro made a trip one time back and got me these pair of Brooks. I loved them so much
I was impressed by the packaging but even more delighted about the quality. I knew it didn't come cheap anyway. When I tried it on, it posed a little difficulty to get my feet in. I didn't mind that because it's often said, in situations as that, that overtime, one's feet would adjust by widening the shoe just enough to fit in comfortably.
The day I wore it to an event, I saw hell(not literally). Although I wore socks and only managed to fit my feet in, but walking around in it hurt my feet so bad. There was even no way that I could take it off then. The pain was excruciating and I only managed to make it through that day.
I felt so bad about those shoes. I made inquiries but there was no means by which I could amend it. No one at my house has exact same size as me. Not like I wanted to gift it but I could make do with them lending it.
For months, I held on to those shoes. They just lay there in my rack, unused. I knew I would never have to wear them but just having them there was enough. Even when I decluttered, I could not bring myself to let go of those.
One day when a family friend came over to the house, our discussion stirred towards how he was handling schooling and almost rounding up. Then he mentioned that his I.T defense was around the corner and he needed nice shoes to go. When I inquired his shoe size, it was an inch below mine. I actually had it in mind to gift him something for graduation and a shoe, going by our talks, would have been perfect.
I did not have it in mind even to give him the undersized one. I would have gotten a new one but for the day my brother who had gifted me the shoe and I were talking about shoes. I told him the one he got me didn't fit and unfortunately, there was no way to return it. He suggested I gave it out and I said nothing.
The main reason for my not wanting to let go of it was that it was one of the first gifts my bro had given me. Certainly, I get so many gifts from him but this one was tangible. Not freedom to use any of his stuff or cash. It was something that I could always look at and remember that this was from him.
But then, shoes were for wearing. And keeping them lying around could make them go bad from no use of from cold. Besides, that would be defeating the purpose it was bought for. A week to that family friend's graduation, I called and asked him if he already got a shoe and when his reply came in negative, I asked to see him and then handed the pair of shoes to him. It fit him well and went so well with his outfit.
I had to let go of it inspite of my sentimental attachment. I felt good about it, later on when I saw my friend rock it so well.
Thanks for stopping by.
SOKA🖤