Tuesday, October 26

It's Not About Looks. It's About Height, Too.

As a girl of considerable length, five feet and eleven inches to be more precise, stature of men is not something I can overlook. Once upon a time, I came to the conclusion that it didn't matter if my significant other was shorter than me. I've definitely been attracted to shorter guys. They've almost always begun as friends and become something more desirable. So I've considered relationships with shorter guys. I've fooled around with shorter guys. Correction: guy.

I've changed my mind. Height matters--to me, anyway. Mostly it probably is a reflection of my less than perfect self-esteem. Shorter guys make me feel... big. As a girl who grew up with that adage, big connotes all things undesirable with a woman. I want to be the feminine part of the couple, the one in need of protection, the one with the quiet control. I want to knock him off his feet metaphorically not physically. Aside, a shorter guy once told me that I probably could beat him up. That was a turn-off.

But onward. I'm pretty image conscious. Maybe this is a problem for me. Maybe I am not sound enough of the mind. I have a cross to bear and it is low self-esteem. However, may I suggest that shorter men are prone to complexes about their height? Worse complexes than those women have about their weight. I think us ladies are expected to be paranoid about our poundage, but dudes are not supposed to care a bit. They care soooooo much. It's all about over-compensation with them. So much like dogs, are men. The large ones lumber along unconcerned with their affable size while the smaller ones are so acutely aware of their vulnerability that they end up drawing more attention to it. For instance, the smaller man will thrust out his chest instead of standing up straight--it almost looks straight, but no... you're starting to remind me of a velociraptor... or maybe a chicken... a chihuahua?

So, anyway. What's my point? I forget.

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