A Quick Word Re: Being Short
There is a heaven I will never know and that is Being Tall.
Sometimes I catch a brief glimpse of this beautiful other life when I wear heels that are 4 or more inches, but it is not a fulfilling glimpse. If you add 4 inches to my height, I’m still not that tall, more like medium. Plus, this unsatisfying glimpse comes with mild pain and extreme determination — feelings I am certain that tall people do not endure for the sake of being tall. I feel their lives are the opposite, in fact, filled with comfort and ease, save the occasional door frame that must be ducked under.
When I utilize a step stool properly instead of executing the extreme sport of climbing onto the countertop to reach a high shelf, this also gives me a glimpse of the life of Talls. I sometimes just stand there for a minute and look around, enjoying what could’ve been. It is a fact, you know: I could’ve been tall. My brother is over 6 feet, my father is exactly 6 feet. The genes were right there! Alas, I get my height from my mother. We are both 5’3”.
Being up on that step stool incites visions of lives unled — flashes of runway modeling and playing professional basketball and wearing pants off the rack without needing them hemmed fly into my mind’s eye like dreams from an alternate universe. I am an Amazon goddess, I am a Charlie’s Angel, I am Wonder Woman! All at once! The…
