The struggles of being a short girl

Don’t tell me it’s not a big deal

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Snow White and the seven vertically challenged people doesn’t have the same ring to it.

There’s an entire world up there that we don’t know about. The everyday struggle of being short is everything is out of reach. You try to avoid the top shelves at all costs, but you’ll soon get to a point where you’ve filled every shelf in the kitchen and all that’s left for the tins you’ll never use is the dreaded top of the cupboard – an Everest away. The only thing you can do is whack on your hiking boots, nab the shelf that has a corner counter underneath so you can spring up on to it like the true mountain climber you are.

There’s no hearing the end of your height when your mates are round. The consistent stream of nicknames. Hobbit, Frodo, shorty, dwarf, pixie, shrimp. If you can escape those names, you’ll find that people add “wee” in front of your name: “Yeah wee Niamh barely made the photo, she’s so short.”

It’s like Where’s Wally

The disillusion of heels are the most heartbreaking for a short girl. When you realise wearing six inch heels that you ain’t fooling anyone and you give up on ever having that aspired long-legged-look that we just never can have. So you end up giving up and going out in flats, and that’s where the real trouble starts. The dance floor is your enemy. You realise you need at least one tall bodyguard around at all times, otherwise you seem to become invisible to everyone dancing around you. From the mosh pit of guys jumping up and down to girls who are tall enough to have elbows at eye level.

Have you ever tried walking with a tall person? It’s like competing in a marathon just to keep by their side. Everyone complains about how slow you’re going but it’s hardly fair when we have little legs that can only go so fast. In cars there’s that patronising look you get from everyone else as you slide your seat as close to the steering wheel as possible. Really we’re just thankful when we find a car that will go that close to the pedals.

Concerts are the worst place a short girl could go to. We pay to go in to see an act playing but end up staring the whole way through at the back of somebody’s head. And even if some caring taller friend decides to lift you up so you can see a whole twenty seconds, chances are there’s a bouncer lurking around to tell them to put you down. Where are these bouncers when someone decides to lift you in a night club?

Just about made it

And that fear you get when the only chairs in the pub or restaurant are long bar stools that seem to be put there just for our humiliation. When you eventually beat your fears and you manage to clamber up, you discover there’s an entire world up there you didn’t know about. It’s great until you discover you’re afraid of heights. Maybe that’s why God made you short.