I have this little habit: every time I come home, I place my shoes neatly by the door. Side by side, pair by pair.
Not because I’m a perfectionist. But because it matters to me.

Even when I get home late, when my legs ache, when all I want is to collapse on the couch and do nothing —
Still, I lean down, take them off gently, and place them right. I don’t toss them in a corner. I don’t kick them under the shelf.

Because I have this strange theory: the way you treat your shoes is how you treat yourself.
Chaos near the door — probably chaos in your mind.
Shoes thrown around — probably not caring much about yourself.
But when everything is in its place, toes lined up — even when tired, you still respect yourself.

The funny part? No one sees this. No one walks in and says, “Wow, look how neatly your shoes are placed!”
It’s not for Instagram. Not for guests.
It’s a daily gesture of self-respect. A quiet language of habit that only you hear.

Sometimes I wonder: if everyone treated themselves like their favorite pair of shoes — wouldn’t the world be just a bit less messy?