Susie Spades (Official Website)
Barefoot Lifestyle
For me, living barefoot is not a casual preference or a passing phase. It is the center of how I live, how I move through the world, and how I understand my relationship with the earth beneath me. My bare feet are not an accessory to my life. They are part of my identity. They represent freedom, authenticity, and a refusal to place artificial barriers between myself and the natural world. I have lived barefoot for more than a decade, and I intend to remain barefoot for the rest of my life.
Many people see bare feet and assume it must be about comfort or convenience. They miss the deeper truth entirely. Going barefoot is a declaration. It is a conscious choice to live honestly and naturally, without surrendering to expectations that never made sense to me in the first place. Shoes are so deeply woven into social norms that most people never question them. I questioned them. Once I did, I could never justify wearing them again.
My connection to barefoot living began long before I made the deliberate decision to remove shoes from my life. As a child I loved being outdoors, running freely across grass, dirt, and warm pavement with nothing between my feet and the ground. Those moments carried a sense of joy and clarity that I never experienced while wearing shoes. Bare feet felt right in a way that shoes never did. That feeling stayed with me for years.
Eventually I stopped ignoring it.
By 2015 I made a clear and uncompromising decision. I removed shoes entirely from my life. Not occasionally. Not seasonally. Completely. Since that time I have not worn or owned any form of footwear. No shoes, no sandals, no boots, nothing. The moment I made that commitment I knew I had crossed a threshold that I would never reverse. I stepped fully into the life that had been calling to me for years.
At the same time I had already embraced naturism, which made the transition even more natural. Living barefoot simply extended the same philosophy of authenticity and freedom. If the human body is meant to exist naturally, then our feet are certainly meant to touch the earth that carries us. Covering them suddenly felt like an unnecessary and artificial restriction.
The physical transformation that followed was remarkable. Our feet are extraordinary structures designed for movement, balance, and sensory awareness. When we confine them inside shoes, we limit the very systems that allow them to function properly. Once I removed that restriction, my feet gradually strengthened. Muscles developed that had been dormant. My arches became stronger. My balance improved. My posture changed.
More importantly, my awareness changed.
Bare feet feel the world in ways that shoes completely erase. Every surface carries information. Grass, sand, stone, soil, wood, gravel, warm pavement, cool earth. Each texture speaks through the nerves of the foot and creates a direct dialogue between body and environment. Walking barefoot turns every step into a sensory experience that reconnects me with the physical world.
That connection extends far beyond simple sensation. Walking barefoot slows me down in the best possible way. It brings attention to the present moment. I feel where I am. I feel the ground supporting me. I feel the temperature of the air and the warmth or coolness of the earth. The experience anchors me in reality rather than separating me from it.
Shoes, in contrast, act like insulation. They remove the body from its environment. They turn walking into a mechanical act rather than a conscious one. Once I understood that difference, I could never return to the insulated version of life.
Of course, living barefoot in a world that assumes everyone must wear shoes attracts attention. Some people are curious. Others are confused. A few are openly critical. Early on I wondered how those reactions might affect me. Over time I discovered that they simply do not matter.
My life is not dictated by other people's expectations.
If anything, the questions and comments have strengthened my conviction. When someone challenges my barefoot lifestyle, I am reminded why I chose it in the first place. I chose it because it is honest. I chose it because it is natural. I chose it because it reflects who I truly am.
People often assume shoes are necessary for protection or practicality. My experience has shown otherwise. The human foot is adaptable and resilient. When allowed to function naturally it becomes stronger, more responsive, and more capable than most people realize. Over the years my feet have developed the strength and durability that come from being used as they were designed to be used.
Beyond the physical aspects, barefoot living also deepens my relationship with the natural world. When I walk across the earth with bare feet I am constantly reminded that I am part of something larger than myself. The ground beneath me is not just a surface to cross. It is the living foundation of the environment that sustains us.
Every step reinforces that connection.
As a full time nomad, my lifestyle already emphasizes simplicity and intentional living. I travel with very few possessions and try to remain mindful of the impact I have on the places I move through. Living barefoot aligns perfectly with those values. It removes another layer of unnecessary material from my life and keeps me physically aware of the environment around me.
There is also a profound simplicity in not owning or relying on shoes. No shopping for footwear. No worrying about fashion, durability, or seasonal changes. My feet are always ready to go exactly as they are. They are the most reliable form of mobility I will ever have.
The simplicity is liberating.
Over time barefoot living has become more than a habit. It has become a philosophy. It represents authenticity, independence, and a willingness to live according to personal truth rather than social expectation. Every step I take barefoot reinforces that principle.
I share my experience openly because I believe people benefit from seeing alternatives to the patterns they were taught to follow without question. I am not interested in forcing anyone to adopt my lifestyle. What I want is for people to recognize that they have choices. They can question norms. They can explore what feels natural to them.
For me, the answer was clear.
Barefoot living is not something I occasionally practice. It is not a seasonal activity or a symbolic gesture. It is simply the way I live my life. My bare feet carry me through every environment, every season, and every experience.
They remind me every day that freedom is often as simple as removing what never belonged there in the first place.
And for me, shoes never belonged there at all.
Many people see bare feet and assume it must be about comfort or convenience. They miss the deeper truth entirely. Going barefoot is a declaration. It is a conscious choice to live honestly and naturally, without surrendering to expectations that never made sense to me in the first place. Shoes are so deeply woven into social norms that most people never question them. I questioned them. Once I did, I could never justify wearing them again.
My connection to barefoot living began long before I made the deliberate decision to remove shoes from my life. As a child I loved being outdoors, running freely across grass, dirt, and warm pavement with nothing between my feet and the ground. Those moments carried a sense of joy and clarity that I never experienced while wearing shoes. Bare feet felt right in a way that shoes never did. That feeling stayed with me for years.
Eventually I stopped ignoring it.
By 2015 I made a clear and uncompromising decision. I removed shoes entirely from my life. Not occasionally. Not seasonally. Completely. Since that time I have not worn or owned any form of footwear. No shoes, no sandals, no boots, nothing. The moment I made that commitment I knew I had crossed a threshold that I would never reverse. I stepped fully into the life that had been calling to me for years.
At the same time I had already embraced naturism, which made the transition even more natural. Living barefoot simply extended the same philosophy of authenticity and freedom. If the human body is meant to exist naturally, then our feet are certainly meant to touch the earth that carries us. Covering them suddenly felt like an unnecessary and artificial restriction.
The physical transformation that followed was remarkable. Our feet are extraordinary structures designed for movement, balance, and sensory awareness. When we confine them inside shoes, we limit the very systems that allow them to function properly. Once I removed that restriction, my feet gradually strengthened. Muscles developed that had been dormant. My arches became stronger. My balance improved. My posture changed.
More importantly, my awareness changed.
Bare feet feel the world in ways that shoes completely erase. Every surface carries information. Grass, sand, stone, soil, wood, gravel, warm pavement, cool earth. Each texture speaks through the nerves of the foot and creates a direct dialogue between body and environment. Walking barefoot turns every step into a sensory experience that reconnects me with the physical world.
That connection extends far beyond simple sensation. Walking barefoot slows me down in the best possible way. It brings attention to the present moment. I feel where I am. I feel the ground supporting me. I feel the temperature of the air and the warmth or coolness of the earth. The experience anchors me in reality rather than separating me from it.
Shoes, in contrast, act like insulation. They remove the body from its environment. They turn walking into a mechanical act rather than a conscious one. Once I understood that difference, I could never return to the insulated version of life.
Of course, living barefoot in a world that assumes everyone must wear shoes attracts attention. Some people are curious. Others are confused. A few are openly critical. Early on I wondered how those reactions might affect me. Over time I discovered that they simply do not matter.
My life is not dictated by other people's expectations.
If anything, the questions and comments have strengthened my conviction. When someone challenges my barefoot lifestyle, I am reminded why I chose it in the first place. I chose it because it is honest. I chose it because it is natural. I chose it because it reflects who I truly am.
People often assume shoes are necessary for protection or practicality. My experience has shown otherwise. The human foot is adaptable and resilient. When allowed to function naturally it becomes stronger, more responsive, and more capable than most people realize. Over the years my feet have developed the strength and durability that come from being used as they were designed to be used.
Beyond the physical aspects, barefoot living also deepens my relationship with the natural world. When I walk across the earth with bare feet I am constantly reminded that I am part of something larger than myself. The ground beneath me is not just a surface to cross. It is the living foundation of the environment that sustains us.
Every step reinforces that connection.
As a full time nomad, my lifestyle already emphasizes simplicity and intentional living. I travel with very few possessions and try to remain mindful of the impact I have on the places I move through. Living barefoot aligns perfectly with those values. It removes another layer of unnecessary material from my life and keeps me physically aware of the environment around me.
There is also a profound simplicity in not owning or relying on shoes. No shopping for footwear. No worrying about fashion, durability, or seasonal changes. My feet are always ready to go exactly as they are. They are the most reliable form of mobility I will ever have.
The simplicity is liberating.
Over time barefoot living has become more than a habit. It has become a philosophy. It represents authenticity, independence, and a willingness to live according to personal truth rather than social expectation. Every step I take barefoot reinforces that principle.
I share my experience openly because I believe people benefit from seeing alternatives to the patterns they were taught to follow without question. I am not interested in forcing anyone to adopt my lifestyle. What I want is for people to recognize that they have choices. They can question norms. They can explore what feels natural to them.
For me, the answer was clear.
Barefoot living is not something I occasionally practice. It is not a seasonal activity or a symbolic gesture. It is simply the way I live my life. My bare feet carry me through every environment, every season, and every experience.
They remind me every day that freedom is often as simple as removing what never belonged there in the first place.
And for me, shoes never belonged there at all.
