So for a really long time, I had a bit of trouble walking- zooming out of my mum’s womb at 29 weeks, I grew up with a stiff left leg and a left foot that didn’t want to move and toes that were frozen in time. I tripped every second week, came home with grazed knees every other day, and my mum was concerned/frustrated/tough loving it up: “Don’t come back with skinned knees tomorrow, promise?” she’d said when I was five years old: “Yep, okay!” I nodded. The next day, I lost control while I was running home with my sister and two little Korean boys (Sean and Peter) and skinned my whole right calf after I ran into a brick ledge on the side of the nature strip. Oops.
Kids never teased me about my gait- no one ever raised it. The only people who would point it out were insensitive types who shut their mouths when I’d stare them in the eye and say: “Yeah and? I was born that way”.
Once, an art teacher told me off in front of the class: “Can you please not clomp into the room like that?” Of course, all art class rooms have wooden floors and so the uneven rhythm of my step was more obvious. Later, she realised I wasn’t hamming it up like a rock star and she apologised: “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know that that was the way you walked”.
Anyway, last night, I went to my fabulous kinesiologist and chiropractor (Hi Dr Rick!) and as we do in all of our sessions, we identified some unresolved emotions that have surfaced this week, moved the energy, did some acupuncture, adjusted the back and neck and I skipped out of there- happy as Larry.
One of the things we talked about is this memory I had from when I was 7 years old. I was walking away from my parents as they sat in the lounge and I was trying to walk straight and keep my left foot straight because I could feel them watching me: “Come back here, Margaret”, my dad said. Then, he said in Korean to no one in particular: “What are we going to about your leg?”
For the next hour and a half, we sat on the carpet and he applied his own version of physio- massaging my foot and toes and trying to get my foot to rotate; to loosen my ankle. In the meantime, mum was saying in my ear: “Don’t you worry what anyone thinks of you- no one’s watching you, they’re too busy thinking of themselves”- and she’d said this because I’d confessed: “Sometimes I’m worried people are watching me”.
Anyway, as I told this story to Dr Rick, he recognised it: he has a 7 year old daughter himself. I mused: “To think my dad was trying to fix my foot by himself- whichever way he could…” and Dr Rick nodded: “It’s true love- that’s what parents do- you do anything for your kid”.
Way to break my heart right there. As he left me with the acupuncture needles in, I thanked my lucky stars for my courageous parents.
Meanwhile, my left leg is so much better, my foot has opened up, I can wriggle my toes and it’s all good in the hood.
Always keep the faith lovelies, and beam some hectic love out to all the people in your life who have cared, nurtured and supported you- because you and they are ridiculously special 🙂
