Let's just say Grandpa wore a size 16 shoe...
So it was no surprise when I quickly became the tallest toddler, preschooler, kindergartner, and so on into my school age years. People always assumed I was older than I truly was, which always delighted me-and pissed off my older (shorter) sister.
I had a few years in middle school that sucked pretty bad, as middle school for most girls does. I had a growth streak in seventh grade, going from above average height and pudgy to downright tall and skinny. On top of that, it was the 1980's and Aqua Net hairspray allowed young women to add on a couple inches to their height in bangs. So boys were pretty much out of the question for a couple of years, as I towered over even the star basketball player in my grade. But middle school is where I started to learn that my height could be used to an advantage in sports, and I discovered my love for volleyball and softball.
And no, I did not play basketball. I cannot shoot a basket to save my freaking life. And there's definitely too much running in basketball...
By high school, some of the boys had caught up and even surpassed me, and I was fortunate to live in a large community that graduated over 500 kids per year. That way, the odds of there being other girls my height and boys taller than I was increased much more so than it could have been elsewhere. My two best girlfriends were about my height, but my my sophomore year I resigned myself to the fact that I would most likely never wear 3-inch strappy sandals to prom.
As I became a young woman, I started to embrace my height. I liked being the one everyone looked up to- literally. I didn't mind wearing double-digit size jeans when most girls my age were in pants half my size, and I definitely never had to worry about getting in a fight- the only girls taller than me were already my friends, an alliance between tall girls that I don't even think we knew existed at the time. I had filled out from my scrawny middle school days, but not in bad ways- I was a strong athlete who just happened to wear a size 10 shoe.
Fast forwarding a few years, I met my husband while volunteering at the firehouse. He eventually asked me to be his date to the annual awards ceremony, and I admit there was a part of me that said yes simply because I knew I could actually wear heels on a date for the first time (he is 6'4").
Three years later, I took his last name. And so now, at 5'10" and 6'4" we are...The Littles. Yes, I know. Ha ha. And what's even better is that our son's pediatrician has forecasted him to be 6'7"...
As I get ready to age into a new decade of my life, I again am just fine with being tall. It's much easier now than it used to be for sure- stores now carry "tall" jeans, and size 10 shoes are much easier to find. But my height and build also allows me to swim like a fish, carry more muscle and energy per square inch, and pregnancy was not filled with sleepless nights due to a baby pressing on my diaphragm.
But there are other things too. At the grocery store the other day, I started to pass by an older woman in the laundry detergent aisle. I didn't notice at first that she was trying to reach the top shelf, as I was in my own happy world of grocery lists and coupons. But as soon as I heard the words, "Excuse me dear..." I knew what was needed before even looking up.
"Can I get something from up there for you?" I asked before she finished her sentence. It's not the first time this has happened, nor will it be the last. And that's just fine, as I am more than happy to help.
Tonight's picture represents using what you have to help others and being ok with how you were made. My massage therapist has a quote on her wall- "Love the body you're in. It's the only one you have". How true, in so many ways. Embrace what and who you are, and take care of what has been given to you for such a short time. I may never be able to sit comfortably in most amusement park rides, but the food on the top shelf of my pantry won't ever go unused!
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