Skeletons in the family closet

I am probably going to catch a lot of flak from my family for this post. But I have been following my sister's angst-ridden attempt to come to terms with a long-shared family trauma, and it's time I get something off my chest. Put it out there, come clean, and move on. I hope I will be forgiven for this, but I am about to share a difficult - some might even say, shameful - family secret.

My family - bear with me, it's hard to put this in print for all the world to see - My family has hairy toes.

There. I said it. Hairy toes. We have hairy toes.

I know, I know. It's quite shocking, and my sisters may never speak to me again, now that I've typed this "out loud". But I really can't keep up the charade anymore. The strain has been giving me ulcers.

There has been some discussion of the trauma which makes certain people unable to deal with their hirsute digits. There has been discussion of the relative merits of plucking vs. shaving. There has been consideration of whether the inevitable comparison to hobbits is endearing or insulting.

After long, careful consideration, I have come to a decision. In an effort to accept myself and my genetics as they are; in an effort to learn to truly love myself, with all my imperfections; and as a protest against the patriarchal conspiracy that coerces women into all manner of tortuous self-mutilation in the name of "beauty" (Um, hello? Brazilian waxes, people? You want to tell me that isn't a conspiracy to disempower women?!)

In an attempt to address all of these issues, I have decided (gulp!) to leave my hairy toes alone. More, I will learn to love them, to let them run naked in the spring sunsine, to wear them proudly and publicly in sandals without socks (unless the socks are hand-knit, in which case the purpose is to show off the knitting, not hide the toes.)

My name is Gladys Quimby, and I love my toes.

(And since this is my blog, and I get to call the shots, there will be no discussion of the supposed unfashionability of socks-and-sandals. I am a knitter, I will show off my handiwork in whatever way I feel best, and if you don't like it, I will poke you with my pointy sticks. I'm just sayin'.)