The height of my might

Not a day passes without someone pointing out how tall I am, and I’m not even that tall. I at times find it amusing to be able to reach what others struggle to touch, but if I’m completely honest, there’s a whole world down there I do not know.
Most of my good friends measure around ten centimeters less than myself, making it impossible for me to wear heels, not that I desperately need to. However, I won’t deny I don’t sometimes fancy a change in my wardrobe, climbing into the cute platform shoes I bought on a whim but never get to wear for lack of equally tall friends. I do not find it pleasurable to have to bend down in order to hear what others are trying to say, or be obliged to wear longer dresses to protect the innocence of the shorter people; I therefore tend to relinquish my girly rights for the sake of the greater good – I know, I’m a charitable soul. Moving on from the somewhat cocky and self-absorbed remarks I’ve just typed and don’t really identify with, I do actually have some issues with my height. A fortnight ago, I was invited to a friend’s house party in the mountains; the moment I arrived, I inevitably hit my head as I tried passing through the low arched door. Now, not to blame the door for my subsequent half hour of pain, I will however point out that I was the only one struggling with that particular problem, yet again singled out by my stature. I was wearing flats, I promise. The deadly mix of height and somewhat inherent clumsiness is one I apparently have mastered, receiving tree branches in my eyes and mistletoe always hanging way too low it ends up receiving my kiss – I won’t complain, that has effectively saved me from some awkward smooching obligations. This brings me to another series of misadventures I tend to struggle with, which is the male population I seem determined to attract, maybe happy to rest their heads on my bosom; I simply do not feel comfortable being with a man I appear to be the one protecting. I have no problem with shorter individuals, but being a hugger and shelter seeker, I find it difficult to be the small spoon when I am clearly the ladle.
I would continue the list of my height-related misfortunes, for they are plentiful, but I’m afraid I do not enjoy putting down what I clearly was given as a gift; I am tall, and if anyone wants a weather forecast, I’ll be more than glad to help.


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