Foot Fetish Trauma
I used to know a guy who had (and still does presumably) a foot/footwear fetish. Let me clarify, since most people use the word fetish to signify that they merely like something that is out of the ordinary, that in this instance I mean fetish in the truest sense of the word. The reason I’ve dug up this particular tale is that the man in question was very very concerned that he was perverse because of his predilection for women’s footwear. He was quite literally fixated by his foot fixation and this caused him a lot of anguish, to say the very least.
Now, I won’t go into the dirty little details, since I do want to preserve this person’s anonymity, but suffice it to say that his inability to accept this side of his sexuality led to some pretty devastating situations, mentally, physically and emotionally. As it stands now, I haven’t spoken to him in quite a few years so I have no idea whether he came to accept this or not, but I’d be willing to put my money on the fact that it simply got worse since he refused to admit that he needed help.
Several of his friends, myself included, tried to show him that in the realm of fetishes feet were pretty common and finding them sexually arousing was nothing to torture yourself with, but it didn’t matter what we told him or how many times we told him that he didn’t have a problem, he just wouldn’t believe us. Ultimately thinking he had a problem is what led to him actually having a major problem.
Hopefully, reading this kind of stuff helps other people accept who they are. I know that it might be uncouth to say this, but sometimes seeing yourself through the eyes of others can help you love yourself the way that others who care about you do. A feeling, I think, that is explained rather well in the following excerpt:
BECAUSE HE LIKED TO LOOK AT IT
This is how I came to love my vagina. It’s embarrassing, because it’s not politically correct. I mean, I know I should have happened in a bath with salt grains from the Dead Sea, Enya playing, me loving my woman self. I know the story. Vaginas are beautiful.
What is said here is true, we are taught that self-love (self-esteem) comes from within and it does, but there is also value in looking at certain situations or feelings through the eyes of someone who loves you. It might sound like a contradiction, but I don’t think it’s necessarily a bad thing. Shit, if I loved myself the way my mom does, I’d probably have a huge motherfucking ego, but I’d also be able to see truths about myself that I wouldn’t be able to see by simply looking in. And like the girl in the Vagina Monologues who learned to love her vagina, because someone else loved to look at it, I learned to love my feet because of the way someone else did. It might be uncouth, but it’s the truth.
When that love went sour, I would sometimes look at my feet and I’d be overwhelmed by the desire to break them into tiny pieces, because they were a reflection of a love that turned into a lie. Eventually that feeling passed, I can look at them now and appreciate them for myself, and even though I’m no longer in the life of the man who mentally harmed himself because of his foot fetish, I hope that he’ll eventually be able to look at himself though the loving eyes of someone else as opposed to his own, which for some reason turn his reflection into something nasty and perverse.