This might surprise you, but I didn’t find out until recently that most women do not feel the same way as me when it comes to loving vertically challenged men. When most women find out about my preference for smooching shorties, it’s usually met with crinkled noses and “I could never” or “gross” or the occasional “oh, hell no!” I smile and say, “Great! That leaves more short guys for me.” And they look at me like I just recited one of Hitler’s speeches in German.
I’m 6’1″, which is pretty tall for a woman. As such, I’ve always been the tallest girl in my class. Let’s just say that if the school needed a tree in the school play, I was the top candidate for the job. And, I’ve liked shorter guys as long as I can remember. As Lady Gaga would screech, “Baby, I was born this waaaaay.” I know I was. From the first time I noticed boys, I only noticed the shorter ones. Tall guys didn’t even register on my tiny radar. Their long, lanky limbs grossed me out. I’d stare at the shortest guys out on the playground, catching kickballs and sliding into homebases, hoping the taller guys would get the hell out of the way so I could ogle at the shrimps with my view unobstructed.
You might want to whip out your hankies here because short guys did not seem to like me in return. In case you were curious, young, short boys do not like starry-eyed giant girls. The more interest I showed them, the more freaked out they’d get. If I tried to stand next to one in line for the water fountain, he’d pretend he suddenly forgot something and excuse himself to go to the back of the line. He wouldn’t dance with me at the school dance, he wouldn’t kiss me behind a cabin at camp; they all just seemed really skilled at walking away quickly whenever I’d make an awkward attempt at conversation.
After a while, it started to get to me. I wished I could be shorter so that these objects of my affection would pick me for once! I’d secretly seethe as my crush chose to date the shortest girl in class. The heart I’d scribbled around our initials linked by a plus sign on my Trapper-Keeper mocked my unrequited love. I’d stab it out with a ballpoint pen, an inky blotch that mirrored my bruised ego.
I didn’t get to date a shorter guy until I was 17. He was 5’6″ which really excited me. I asked if he minded that I was so much taller than him and he shrugged, saying “nah.” It wasn’t like he enjoyed my height, it just seemed like he didn’t mind it. It was progress, I guess.
After him, I dated guys of all heights. While I wanted to date shorter guys, taller guys kept asking me out. I’d say yes, partly because I was terrible at saying no and partly because I felt that I should at least give the guy a chance. But while we were out, I’d find myself making eyes with the short cutie on the other side of the bar.
After a particularly bad breakup with my 6’1″ boyfriend a few years ago, I had to re-learn how to be single again. What surprised me was that I was only interested in hooking up with shorter guys. After years of trying to conform to what other people wanted and convincing myself that I should give up on the short guy thing, I finally admitted to myself that I really only enjoy dating shorter dudes. When I asked myself what it was about them, I always thought it was a superficial thing; I just thought they were hotter. Maybe some part of my reptilian brain found a genetic advantage to guys with a lower center of gravity? It’s possible.
But, as I thought about it more, I realized that the real reason
I’ve heard women say that they like dating taller guys because it makes them feel smaller or petite or protected. I hate feeling smaller or petite and I don’t need to feel protected. I feel sexier having a guy stand on a curb to kiss me. It makes me feel like a goddess. I’m statuesque. I love my height, so why would I want to hide that? Is that so weird?
I’ve finally accepted this little preference of mine. Sure, I might get weird looks when I show up with a cute shorty on my arm, but I don’t care. In fact, I love it. Everyone should be as lucky to feel as comfortable with the person they’re with as I do.