The Pandemic—A Test of Relationships

According to recent articles, the pandemic has been extremely hard on relationships.  Divorce in America hit a record low in 2019, but there are signs that statistic is on the rise. A leading British law firm reported a 122% increase in divorce filings (the Brits call it enquires) between July and October compared with the same period last year. In the U.S., sales of online self-help divorce agreements rose by 34%.

Pre-COVID, a University of Washington study demonstrated divorces usually increased after holidays, when couples are together for longer periods. Magnify that by 14+ months and you have what psychologists say was “the perfect storm” for couples. Common sense will tell you that if there are problems in a relationship, a lack of distraction will exacerbate those issues. Throw in the stress of the pandemic, the economic impact, and even the inability to go to the gym and you have people throwing in the towel. Even something as simple as taking away the daily routine can tear at the ties that bind.

I have personal experience; one of my longest, most intimate relationships suffered severely during the pandemic, was stressed to the point where things will never be the same.  I never realized how important other people were to keeping my relationship fresh, how very vital being able to publicly flaunt this pairing was to its existence.

I am, of course, referring to my relationship with shoes. Oh, come on. You didn’t really think I could do a humorless blog, did you?

And while this subject matter might amuse you, my condition is actually quite serious. The tarnish on this relationship has affected my very sole. I “loved” my shoes.  Now, I see them and think—eh. They line my shoe rack, waiting to be touched, to be the pair of the day, but I just close the closet door to my heart. Amazon sends me daily emails, desperate to create a match for me, but my broken psyche just can’t find that loving feeling. 

So what happened?

While I worked from home, my footwear had nothing to do. We (my shoes and I) had nowhere to go, nothing to do. Other people no longer cared that we made a cute couple.  I didn’t have the pleasure of pairing  those cute espadrilles with a merlot-colored top, or get to take my cork-soled wedgies to the wine bar.

We all long for normal, but sometimes I’d just want a sassy pair of sneakers to once again add bounce to my step.  Silliness aside, I hope all of you are recovering and once again getting the most out of life.

Happy shopping,

Robin