You know how some kids daydream about breaking their arm? I was one of them. Honestly, I didn’t want to break anything. I just wanted a neon green cast for a couple weeks to show off while my friends signed things like “get well soon” on my healing wrist. Looking back at my elementary school self, the thought of having a cast almost seemed like fun. The reality of this, though, really is everything but fun. I’m 21 years old now, and my eight year old dream has finally come true.

Little over a week ago, I missed one step down a flight of stairs (the last one, too) on the way to my boyfriend’s university’s annual Fancy Dress formal, which sent my favorite pair of Steve Maddens into an untimely death (my right heel split) as I sprained my ankle and broke my fifth metatarsal on my right foot. Screaming and crying as this occurred, I did what anyone else would have done (not!) – I put my torn heel back on my right foot, stopped my mascara from running, dusted my dress off, picked a few pieces of gravel out of my palms, and grabbed my boyfriend’s hand, letting him know I was still game to dance.

He protested, but I was on a mission to dance and enjoy the night. Nothing could have stopped me. So, we did just dance. We danced for hours, and it hurt like hell, but that was not going to stop me from twisting, turning, dipping, grinding, and all that good stuff. After having one of the best nights from this semester, the two of us called it a night, which is when reality hit in the form of red, black, purple, and blue bruises around my right foot and ankle. Read More »