You don’t need permission to wear yellow shoes

I fell in love with the yellow Chuck Taylor, All Star, Rubber high top shoes the minute I saw them in the store. Pure, bright, intense yellow. The yellow of crayons and sunshine. They looked so happy on my feet when I tried them on.

But, I didn’t buy them.

The boring voice of reason and responsibility whispered in my ear. Are you serious? Yellow shoes? You can’t be serious. You are an older woman, you need to be conservative. Don’t buy them. 

The yellow, happy shoes I tried on went back in the box, and back on the shelf between size nine and a half and size eight and a half. Chuck Taylor All Star Rubber, Model #144747C Wild Honey. Mens’s size 7, Womens size 9.

The Converse Chuck Taylor All Star Rubber has been designed to help keep you dry. The rubber upper helps repel water and the french terry lining increases comfort. The gusseted tongue also provides protection from other elements. — Converse.com

I walked to a different shoe store and bought a pair of black conservative leather ankle boots.

All the way home, I thought: yellow shoes, yellow shoes, yellow shoes, yellow shoes, yellow shoes, yellow shoes, yellow shoes, yellow shoes, yellow shoes, yellow shoes, yellow shoes, yellow shoes, yellow shoes, yellow shoes, yellow shoes, yellow shoes, yellow shoes, yellow shoes, yellow shoes, yellow shoes, yellow shoes. 

The black conservative leather ankle boots stayed in the box, in the bag, in the van.

I returned the black conservative leather ankle boots the next day. Then I walked into Converse and bought a pair of Chuck Taylor All Star Rubber, Model #144747C Wild Honey. Mens’s size 7, Womens size 9.

I came home with a box of sunshine. Yes, Yellow Chuck Taylor All Star Converse. Wild Honey. 

And all the way home I thought:yellow shoes, yellow shoes, yellow shoes, yellow shoes, yellow shoes, yellow shoes, yellow shoes, yellow shoes, yellow shoes, yellow shoes, yellow shoes, yellow shoes, yellow shoes, yellow shoes, yellow shoes, yellow shoes, yellow shoes, yellow shoes, yellow shoes, yellow shoes, yellow shoes. 

You don’t need permission to wear yellow shoes

There is no manual that was given to our parents when we were born. A manual that states what clothing we have to wear at each stage of life. Does it say on page six hundred and forty-two, “Though shalt wear polyester slacks when you are sixty-four,” Though shalt never wear a jean-jacket after the age of thirty-five”?

You don’t need permission to wear yellow shoes. There are no rules that say, “Adults can not have fun.” Or rule, forty-two, “Thou shalt not wear yellow shoes if you have gray hair.”

Your time is limited, so don’t waste it living someone else’s life.
— Steve Jobs

Don’t waste your life living in someone else’s shoes.

If the life you want to live has yellow shoes in it. Then wear yellow shoes. Click To Tweet

May your only regret on your death-bed be that you forgot to unplug the iron. May you never have to say, “My one regret is that I forgot to be me. I wish I had bought those yellow shoes.”

What life do you want to live?

You don’t need permission to live

Has your life been full of May I …? May I …? May I …? May I …? May I …? May I …? May I …? May I …? May I …? May I …? May I …? May I …? May I …? May I …? May I …? May I …?

May I buy the pink car instead of the blue one?  “May I grow out my bangs?” May I apply to the college I want to?” “May I paint only using the color green? May I write about my childhood? May I write in the first person? May I eat the last piece of bacon? (Now, when it involves bacon, you might have to ask.)

You don’t have to live in the “May I …?” world anymore. You can decide for yourself who you are.

“Don’t look for society to give you permission to be yourself.”
― Steve Maraboli, Unapologetically You: Reflections on Life and the Human Experience

Be yourself. If you want a pink car, buy a pink car. If you want to grow out your bangs, grow out your bangs. Apply to the college you want to. Paint using only green, or yellow or blue. Write about your childhood. Write in the first person.

You don’t need my permission. You don’t need anyone’s permission to be yourself. Grow your hair to your ankles if you want to.

If is your life. Live it. Click To Tweet

(But, please share the last piece of bacon.)

Have you ever felt like you needed to ask permission to live? Please tell me in the comments. I would love to chat, (in my yellow shoes.)

xo
Pamela