My vertical challenge

A pint-sized senior finally comes to terms with her height and learns good things really do come in small packages

 by Marisa Freed
 published on Wednesday, March 5, 2008

Dylan Winkler / STATE PRESS MAGAZINE

My entire life, I have been smaller than the average human being. As a child, my mother would always try and make me feel lucky to be vertically challenged by saying, "Good things come in small packages." She was obviously wrong, though, because Barbie's huge, beautiful dream house and sporty, drivable Jeep came in HUGE packages and those were the only "good things" on my list.

Those were the days when a My Size Barbie wasn't exactly my size and in all class pictures, I was always placed at the very end of the bottom row because everything was done in size order.

As I've gotten older, the hardships of being literally "looked down upon" have sustained. In junior high, I learned the difficulties of dating someone a foot taller than me. It wasn't always easy having to climb onto his huge feet and still be on my tippy toes just to give him a kiss. My junior high was practically connected to my elementary school and I was oftentimes mistaken for a third grader.

In high school, the campus got bigger, the people got bigger and I somehow missed the whole "growth-spurt" memo. While most girls on my cheerleading squad had the option of which position they would hold in a stunt group, I was always the flyer. You know, the one on top of the pyramid that makes the crowd gasp whenever she goes flailing to the ground, which I might add, is not exactly cushioning to the fall.

I've learned that people are extremely intelligent when it comes to being observant. They love to inform me of my size, like they were just telling me something that no one else had ever pointed out, and usually hope I will respond by saying something like, "Oh my gosh, you're kidding! Wow, I am so glad I know that now!"

And now, as a college student and soon-to-be graduate, while I may not have grown in inches (yes, I'm still 4 feet 10 inches tall), I've grown on the inside and am finally learning to accept, and even enjoy, my vertical challenge. Unlike most of my friends, I never had a fake ID because I knew I would hand it to the bartender and they would say, "Yeah right, you look 12." When I actually turned 21, not only was a new world of bars opened to me, but I also gained a newfound confidence because — believe it or not — I've never been asked for a second form! The bouncers seem to know that a 12-year-old would have to be crazy to try to pass for 21.

I've come to appreciate many other aspects of being small. I get discounted clothes because I can shop in the children's department. I can easily maneuver my way through people to get to the stage at a concert. I shave my legs in record-breaking time because I have little body surface to cover. And thanks to Tiffany's little blue boxes, I've finally learned that good things really do come in small packages.

— Reach the writer at spm@asu.edu
»Send us your own life story at spm@asu.edu.