Image: Hernán Piñera / Flickr
Image: Hernán Piñera / Flickr

Tall tales: a long-limbed love story

Share on FacebookTweet about this on TwitterPin on PinterestShare on Tumblr

We all want the fairy tale love story. Unfortunately, being a tall woman can sometimes seem like a burden when chasing true love.

I’m 6’3” – something I get informed of almost every day by people I barely know. It’s as if they think I’m not already aware of the fact that I am taller than the average UK man. To make me more of a genetic freak I also have bright blonde hair, an attribute which, when combined with my height, has earned me the nickname ‘Flaming Beacon’ when I go out clubbing with the squad.

In every group photo where I look normal in height, rest assured, the forward leg bend is in operation…

For a very long time, I hated my height. As a teenager, I mastered the art of the ‘forward leg bend’, a move that the tall folk reading this will also be well acquainted with. In every group photo where I look normal in height, rest assured, the forward leg bend is in operation and my thigh muscles are in agony.

The main concern of my youth, as I’m sure was the same for many other angsty teenage girls, was whether or not somebody could possibly love me. I was doomed to a life of cats and one bedroom flats, I was sure of it.

My poor mother had to deal with many a teary breakdown at my self-deemed unworthiness of love…

Boys were a good head and shoulders beneath me until around the end of secondary school; even at sixth form a boy being taller than me was a novelty. My poor mother had to deal with many a teary breakdown at my self-deemed unworthiness of love.

My dad, an enormous man of 6’10”, didn’t see what the problem was. He was convinced, as most dads are, that his daughter was the most beautiful thing in the world. “Fluffy, the men will be lining around the block for you,” he would say. I was constantly reassured, but without the affirmation of a boyfriend, the words of my loved ones fell on deaf ears.

I was frequently told I would be perfect ‘if only I were shorter’…

When I arrived at university, like pretty much any other student, I entered into the Tinder-sphere. I was frequently told I would be perfect ‘if only I were shorter’, boys frequently using the excuse that they could never, ever date a girl that was taller than them. So, naturally, I did the ‘boy thing’ and lied about my height on my profile. 6’3” Katie from Essex became 6 foot. How cheeky.

But please, don’t feel too sorry for me. My sad tall girl self-esteem crisis does have a slightly ‘happy ending’. Last year, one lad I liked on Tinder and I went on a date. Turns out he’d lied about his height, like a lot of lads do.

So, for those of you reading who are long-limbed, male or female, here is my advice: don’t hide yourself away…

However, and rather fortunately for me, he’d lied about quite how tall he was. So 6’5” Dave was actually nearer to 6’8”. Get in. And just a couple of weeks ago, we went to Sweden (to be among the other tall freaks of the world) for our first trip away as a couple. Aww.

So, for those of you reading who are long-limbed, male or female, here is my advice: don’t hide yourself away. You are a genetic marvel, with a guaranteed good view at any concert.

If anyone mocks you, then that’s their problem…

Don’t ever let someone make you feel small for being anything but. If anyone mocks you, then that’s their problem, and certainly isn’t something you should be concerning yourself with. One day the right person will come, and they will love every inch of you.

Related Posts

Share on FacebookTweet about this on TwitterPin on PinterestShare on Tumblr

Comments (1)

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *