I wore heels today. Small ones, to be certain, but I'm generally a flats sort of person. Gravity and I have a special relationship.
I'm sixty-four inches tall. So two-inch heels increase my height by... two inches. Five and a half feet is nothing. Being just two inches taller, though, is a noticeable shift in perspective. It's especially noticeable in my kitchen, where my barefoot self knows where every shelf and counter should be.
Tiny changes happen all the time, and sometimes something that seems insignificant can have a much larger impact--sometimes a blessing, sometimes a curse. Often uncomfortable.