If you are ever at a point in your life where you've decided that high heels will make you into the older, more mature version of you, you're wrong. I was at that point when preparing for a wedding I was to attend this past weekend. I had decided that I had gotten away with not wearing heels for too long and that it was time to do it. I was excited even to wear the open-toed pumps that I had bought to match my dress. If you are one of those people that can put up with wearing heels for long periods of time, I commend you with the highest praise. I didn't last more than two hours before I felt my feet began withering away under the pressure of such an unnatural angle. Here are the seven stages of my journey.

1. Challenge accepted.

Here was my goal: to make it through the wedding ceremony and most of the reception before taking off the cute new heels that completed my ensemble.

2. The art of not falling.

Before leaving for the event, I practiced walking in my heels for a solid ten minutes. I had no intention of falling in front of everyone, so I kept my steps small and my eyes in a razor-sharp focus on my goal of making it through the whole wedding wearing the heels.

3. And I looked good.

As an infrequent wearer of heels, I didn't realize how cool and confident they made me feel. And for that brief bit of time, I loved my new heels.

4. Nope. Worst decision EVER.

Yeah, so that cool and confident feeling I was just talking about didn't last long. My feet turned into an inferno of heat and pain. I felt like I was walking on a bunch of scalding hot rock on my tiptoes. I was not going to be able to last much longer... it had only been thirty minutes.

5. I CAN DO THIS.

No, Joey a dinosaur wouldn't give up! I kept going. I kept a straight face and bore the pain like a champ. I wasn't going to let the heels destroy my feet. I'm stronger than that!

6. I gave up.

It was hopeless, a lost cause. The heels conquered my feet in their fashionable torture chamber. At the end, I could no longer walk. My feet had collapsed on the battlefield and there was no rallying. But I felt no shame as I slipped into the comfort of the only other pair of shoes I had in the car: my Birkenstocks.

7. Moral of the story: I cannot wear heels.

Amanda Bynes was right. Why had I even tried to fit into such an invention? Though a secret part of me still wishes I had had the true strength to survive the wearing of the heels. Maybe someday I will once again strut my stuff in heels. But for now I'll be polite and just say they are not my thing.