Writing

Vertically Challenged

You know, one of the biggest struggles of my weight loss journey – and I’m being serious here – is coming to terms with the fact that I will never be tall and slender.

No, seriously.

I’m 5’3″ (on a good day), and even if I dropped fifty pounds I will never gain those five inches of height I so desperately covet. I’ll never see into the upper cabinets or bookshelves; I’ll lever see over the dash. Friends and Husband will always be able to hide things from me simply by putting them up on a high shelf. I’ll always need a ladder. Telling someone I’m going walking with tall friends inevitably triggers the response, “They’re walking, you’re jogging, right?”

Weirdly, this disappointment in not being able to grow has done a lot to discourage me while losing weight, because I’ll never look the way I want to. Ever. I’ll never have long legs, or a neck one could describe as “swan-like”. I’ll never fold gracefully out of a car – especially tall ones. I’ll always have to balance the shortness of my legs with the largeness of my cleavage when adjusting the driver’s seat in any car.

My friends have always been tall, and until about three years ago, I wore only high heels. I was that kid. I even ran in gym in heels once. It started when I was eight wearing those platform clogs that were popular in the nineties, and by the time I was twelve, people were mistaking me for teachers walking down the hallway. I even taught high heel lessons for my friends come prom time. Unfortunately, it turns out that letting a kid wear high heels fucks with their anatomy – my calves developed short and I’ve been trying to fix that – but man, did I have some pretty, pretty shoes.

Nowadays, I mostly wear bright red Converse, but that doesn’t make it any easier being the shortest woman in the room. I’ve met shorter people, of course, but as I said – most of my friends are taller than me, and that is occasionally discouraging. Though I had a moment of hope when I learned there’s a surgery to make a person taller, my hopes were dashed when it occurred to me I really have no desire to break my legs just to gain an extra inch or two. I care – but I don’t care that much.

What I really have to come to terms with is the fact that I’m not going to grow any more. I stopped growing way back in high school, and no amount of yoga and vitamin D is going to change that (unfortunately). My children will probably be taller than me, my friends will be taller than me, and I have to be happy being “the adorable friend” in the group.

Maybe I’m ok with being the adorable one, though. I mean, there are a lot of perks to being small. Everyone loves me, because I’m pocket-sized, and when I say scandalous things, people are too surprised that it came out of this cutesy little person to be upset. It even makes my stupid puns acceptable. Plus, I am a hide and go seek champion.

So, here’s to all my lovely friends out in the internet world who are vertically challenged like me. Friends who have never seen the top of a bookshelf without a ladder. Who know the need to climb on the counter tops to reach the elusive upper cabinet. The friends who can wear heels and still are shorter than all of your friends. Take pride in your lack of height, my wonderful fellows because remember: good things often come in small packages.

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