There is a type of woman, of which I am one, who stands proudly in their high heels, fists held to the skies to declare "I am a woman! I need no counterpart, no other half to make me whole. I am a complete creation in and of myself!"
That type of woman confidently stands in her stilettos to bridge the physical gap between the genders. She is the woman who parades triumphantly into the weight room at the local gym, to bench press with the best of them.
She is the woman who always looks her best, not to attract the opposite sex, but to prove that she needs no reason to do so. She is the woman who is a mean and end in herself, with no singular partner as her end goal. Her flag is the snake skin purse at her side. Her battle cry is the click clack of heels across the clean marble floor of her business place, her weapons are the manicured nails kept polished as proof of her potency. She is a woman.
We wear heels as a symbol to the world, not of equality to men, but of superiority. We wear heels even as we are are plagued by sore feet and weak ankles. We wear heels because sometimes... We fall. And sometimes when we fall, there is a man there to catch us with a smile. Not a smile of arrogance. Not a grin that says, "I've saved a damsel in distress now look at my muscles you mortals and despair." it is a smile of approval. And sometimes that man will set us back upon our pedestal, the two we have strapped to our feet, and send us on our way.
I am a woman! If any man dare contest this truth, let him enter the ring he wont last long. I do not need a man! But... Sometimes I'd like one. Because I know that, sometimes, what you want the least, is what can make you the strongest you've ever been. And thats why I wear heels.