Une femme avec de bonnes chaussures n’est jamais laide. A woman who chooses her own shoes is never ugly. ⸻ When I was young, they put red shoes on my feet. Everybody watched. Everybody judged. I only wanted to look a little pretty, shine a little brighter, be somebody people see. I wanted ribbons. I wanted laughter. I wanted one small moment to feel a little grander. ⸻ Such a little wish. Such a little dream. But they called it vanity and tore apart the seams. ⸻ Now I choose my shoes. Now I choose my road. Now I choose the hand that I want to hold. Ruby-red heels, and a whole world to see. I’m not dancing for them— I’m dancing for me. ⸻ Yes, I made mistakes. Yes, I paid the cost. Yes, I lost some things I never should have lost. Maybe I deserved some blame. Maybe I deserved less. Life is rarely fair enough to pass that kind of test. ⸻ I paid my dues. I learned my lesson. That story had its ending. And that girl learned how to stand. The music starts again— and now I know who I am. ⸻ Now I choose my shoes. Now I choose my road. Now I choose the hand that I want to hold. Ruby-red heels, and a whole world to see. I’m not dancing for them— I’m dancing for me. ⸻ What do they say about me now? Do they think I’m gone? Do they think I vanished where good little girls belong? Do they think I paid my debt and quietly disappeared? Sorry, darling— I’m still here. ⸻ Now I choose my shoes. Now I choose my road. Now I choose the dance. Now I choose my love. Ruby-red heels, bright as a ruby flame. The shoes are still red— but I am not the same. I paid my dues. I found my way. And now I dance because I choose to stay. ⸻ Une femme avec de bonnes chaussures n’est jamais laide. A woman who chooses her own shoes is never ugly. The shoes are still red— but I am not the same.
