Happy September! I don’t know about you, but this summer seems to have flown by extra fast. I love summer for all the hiking and outdoors activities that are so abundant and available here in Powell River, although this summer marks just over a year of me trying to heal a nasty, and stubborn, case of plantar fasciitis.
For those of you who know firsthand how awful plantar fasciitis is, you probably also know how everyone has an opinion on how to heal it.
I have seen two chiropractors, a registered massage therapist, a sports medicine doctor and a nurse practitioner. Currently, I am seeing a wonderful chiropractor who is executing a treatment plan with me. We have been working on this for a number of months and I am beginning to see some results. Between appointments, I have my own homework which mostly consists of some specific stretches and finding the correct pair of shoes to support me in all my running around. It has been a long and frustrating process of trial and error, but it feels like, finally, there might be a light at the end of the tunnel.
Why am I talking about my foot injury in my column about relationships and intimacy? Well, the next part of this story is where it becomes relevant.
This past weekend, I went to the city for a little getaway and I thought, while I was there, I would go and get properly fitted and assessed for a pair of running shoes that would best support my healing process. After a good hour, the saleswoman helped me narrow it down to two pairs of shoes. I ended up buying one of those pairs for a weekend trial, with the understanding that I could return them if they did not work for me, as long as I did not wear them outside. They ended up not feeling like the best option, so I returned them for a refund.
This time, there was a salesman. When I told him why I wanted to return the shoes, he wanted to reassess my gait, with, no doubt, the hope of selling me another pair. His tone was incredibly condescending. He told me how the sales lady had assessed me wrongly and put me in the wrong shoes. He asked if I was rolling out my feet and what stretches I was doing. Then he rolled his eyes and sighed. He told me that I should be in a less supportive shoe, which is absolutely incorrect. I know this from my own experience and from recommendations made by medical professionals. He then tried to explain to me the nature of my injury, the very injury I have been dealing with for a year, and the methodology behind the “incorrect” exercises that I was doing. Further, when I attempted to purchase a pair of compression socks designed for my injury, yet again he pulled out the condescending explanation of why I was wrong, regardless of the fact that I have been using that very product and getting relief. I left the store feeling very angry, invalidated and talked down to.
Many of you will know that the term for this type of communication is “mansplaining”. The basic definition is to comment on or explain something to a woman in a condescending, overconfident, and often inaccurate or oversimplified manner—especially when the woman is likely already educated on the matter.
As a woman, I have had this scenario play out time and time again, with many men who are currently or previously in my life at varying capacities. It does not inspire connection and does not communicate respect, whether this is happening with your partner, employer, father or the retail guy at the running store.
To the guys in the room, if you think you know, find out if the other person already knows before laying down your explanation. Otherwise, no thanks.
Niseema Emery is a certified intimacy and relationship coach in Powell River.
