I need to talk about something that feels small…
but absolutely is not.

People who take their shoes off on airplanes.

I’m not talking about slipping your heels off and tucking your feet politely under your seat like a reasonable, self-aware adult. I mean bare feet. Socks at best. Toes out. In the wild. At 35,000 feet.

Why.

Just—why.

This is not a wellness practice.

Somewhere along the way, we collectively decided that “comfort” means doing whatever makes me feel good, regardless of how it affects others.

This is not comfort.
This is entitlement with a plantar flex.

Airplanes are not:

• your living room
• your yoga studio
• your sock drawer

They are shared spaces filled with recycled air, mystery crumbs, and carpet that has seen things.

Putting your bare feet on that floor and then casually hoisting them into shared space is not self-care.

It’s a social experiment the rest of us did not consent to.

“But I’m Just Trying to Be Comfortable”

I get it. Flying sucks.

We’re cramped. We’re tired. We’re overstimulated. We’re wearing shoes we regret because airport security made us panic last time we flew. But here’s the thing we seem to have forgotten:

Your comfort does not outrank collective decency.

We live in a time where everyone is encouraged to “honor their needs,” which is great—until honoring your needs requires everyone else to silently tolerate your feet.

There is a difference between:

• I need to be comfortable
  and
• I no longer acknowledge other humans exist

Shoes are part of the social contract.
Especially in enclosed metal tubes hurtling through the sky.

This Is Actually About Awareness

Yes, this is about feet.
But it’s also about something bigger.

It’s about noticing that we share space.

Airplanes are one of the last places where we are forced into proximity with strangers we didn’t choose. And how we behave in those moments says a lot about our awareness, patience, and ability to regulate ourselves without making it someone else’s problem.

Taking your shoes off and letting your feet roam freely is a small but telling moment of:

• “My comfort matters more than the environment”
• “If no one stops me, it must be fine”
• “I’ve decided this is normal now”

I am here to tell you:

It is not.

A Gentle Reminder (That Isn’t Actually That Gentle)

If you want to take your shoes off:

• Keep your socks on (and they’d better be clean!)
• keep your feet in your own space (defined as the small cubby directly under the seat in front of you)
• keep them out of sight (again – use your ‘dog cubby’ – do not cross one foot over your knee so your toes are staring at me while I try to enjoy my pinot)
• keep them out of the aisle
• keep them off armrests, walls, seatbacks, and definitely other humans

If that feels restrictive or ridiculous, I say this with care:

You might not see any problem – but I assure you, the majority of folks do. And that counts for something.

Anyway.

That’s it.
That’s the rant.

If you’ve never done this, thank you for your service.
If you have… I believe in growth.

And if you’re reading this barefoot on a plane right now?

Put the shoes back on.
We can all feel it.

With love,