Sure I’m only 5′ 10″ but it seems like not a day goes by where someone doesn’t reference my height or think that because I’m all legs, that I’m much taller than I say. For example, on Friday, I visited a local LA Fitness in hopes of grabbing a membership but was totally turned by the sales associate who insisted I was “at least 6 feet tall.” Before even introducing himself, I got an “Oh wow, you’re tall. Couldn’t miss you.” (No sh–t Sherlock). Twenty minutes into the conversation about my height and how I should have played volleyball, I decided to bounce…

I’ll have to admit, growing up, I hated my height. My pants were always swinging, all the boys were shorter than me and dancing just looked awkward… like Elaine in “Seinfeld” only much worse. It wasn’t until I ventured out into the real world as an adult, that I really developed a love/hate relationship for my glorious gams.

Although the relationship is more love than hate, there are a handful of issues that only my tall girls will understand:

1. People telling you that you’re tall.
2. People asking how tall you are.
3. People asking how the weather is “up there.”
4. Trying to find pants that aren’t capri pants.
5. Trying to find a mini dress that isn’t actually a tunic top.
6. People call you a tall glass of water
7. People telling you that you’re a
8. Being judged for wearing heels.
9. That awkward knee bend necessary to fit in photos.
10. Seeing men carry their girlfriends

So please people. We know we’re tall… we woke up like this!

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Over caffeinated, super random, semi-pro ranter. I'm like an onion, I've got layers. #tacotuesday

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