I’ve wanted a pair of Dr. Marten black combat boots since 8th grade.

Don’t ask me why; they just spoke to me in a way I couldn’t begin to comprehend. Their rugged exterior and kick-ass, take-no-shit appearance was something that I craved as a budding adolescent.

This infatuation didn’t leave as I grew older. Though I thought it was a fleeting romance, the pull of the shoes only became stronger as I started to pocket more money and get my first job. I finally had the funds to buy a ridiculously expensive pair of the perfect shoe for me.

Now that I’ve developed into a slightly kick-ass, definitely-takes-a-lot-shit-she-shouldn’t-have-to adult, I was ready to start developing my personal style in a way that spoke to me. As someone that has always struggled with personal identities, I saw the perfect pair of shoes as a way to, well, get my foot through the door as I learned to become who I wanted to be.

There’s a sort of magic in finding the right shoe for you. Really, it can change your life like Cinderella and her glass slippers. There’s a certain comfortability in recognizing that your style reflects how you feel, and depending on the day, your style can range from comfy to cute to badass in a matter of moments.

Now that I have the shoe, I realized that I didn’t need them to become me. They’re killer, don’t get me wrong, and I feel smitten all over again each time I put them on. But they don’t define me, just like my clothes don’t. They reflect me on the inside and it gives me all the more confidence to put my best foot forward.