God and High Heels: My Poor Analogy

Not that I’ve ever been insecure about standing at four feet ten and a half inches: I love being small.  In most of the animes I’ve enjoyed, girls are small.  But I’ve always been fascinated with beautiful shoes.  After all, beautiful shoes take you to beautiful places – or so the quote from a Jdorama goes.

I’m a late bloomer when it comes to shoes.  I didn’t own a pair of beautiful shoes until my graduation from college.  Growing up, I never got to choose my own shoes: they were either my cousins’ hand-me-downs or from balikbayan boxes sent by relatives abroad.  My first pair – which I wore for my college graduation – stood at four inches, and was square heeled, and was black, and had a silver band.  It wasn’t expensive at all but the moment I laid my eyes on it, it caught my heart.  Since then, almost every pair I owned had to be at least three inches high.

But high heels are hard to walk in.  Wearing them entails pain and suffering.  Wearing them can be impractical, given the many comfortable alternatives out there.  Wearing them, science says, is dangerous even.

A little like believing in God, yes?


I’m a late bloomer, too, in believing in God.  Although I received a Catholic baptism – Mama came from Cebu, the cradle of Christianity in the Philippines – I stopped going to Church at a young age.  It wasn’t by choice: Papa is a Freemason.  Then, somewhere along the way I would go with my Lola to Baha’i services.  Then, there were the books scattered around the house.  The Eastern esoteric teachings.  The gnostic gospels.  The Zachariah Sitchins.  Buddhism was what resonated with me the most – especially the part of compassion for all beings.  And there was a book on Lucifer that really made sense.

And then, in December 2014, God pulled me back.

But believing in God is hard.  Believing entails pain and suffering.  Believing can be impractical, given the many comfortable and alluring alternatives out there.  Believing, some say, is dangerous even.

A little like walking in high heels, yes?


You see, my feet are not pretty at all.  My feet are huge.  My calves are fat and shapeless.  But each time I have my favorite high heels on, they look quite nice.  And I feel a little bit more confident.  My feet and my legs aren’t pretty, but with beautiful shoes, I don’t feel unpretty.  Just like believing in God.  I know of my imperfections – and many of them I can’t change.  But in God’s eyes, I feel precious.

High heels also force my posture straight.  I had slouched my whole life, walking with my head down.  But since I learned walking in high heels, I think I’ve improved my walk.  Just like believing in God.  I had done horrible things in the past, but knowing that God is with me now, I try to correct my deeds, my words, my thoughts.  I’m trying to straighten up.


This had been a poor analogy – a desperate attempt to connect my fascination for beautiful shoes with my love for God.  But there’s one difference.

I love high heels but I can live without them.  God?  Well, that’s an entirely different story.


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