The Wind Beneath My Feet
My mother always wanted me to be a lady. To defy her, after moving to Canada from Saudi Arabia, I bought shoes that were flat, round-toed and black – not the least bit ladylike. I wore these shoes to my high school award ceremony, my job interview, to driving lessons, to convocation. As the years passed, I bought new shoes, including strappy, dainty, high-heels. But my unladylike black boots are the ones I return to when my feet are sore. They are the shoes that accompanied me on my journey to becoming Canadian – a woman free to fly as she wished.