Five Foot Eight (Almost) Print E-mail
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Written by Sarah Eddenden   

I am taller than my husband.

I am taller than my mother. I am taller than my sister.

I'm not taller than my brothers or my Dad.

I am not a giant. I am five eight, or almost five eight. I am very close to five foot eight inches.

My husband is five foot six.

This difference may not seem huge. Most of the time, I am in runners or flats, and the difference is almost unnoticeable.

Almost.

But then, on the occasions I wear heels - weddings, parties, winter - I am five inches taller than my husband.

I think he moves between Liking it and Not Liking It. The way my husband is, he spends most of his time in the Doesn't Really Matter area.

I love it.

It's not a dominance thing. To be truthful, it makes me feel confident and sexy. I like to make an entrance in my three-inch gingham-checked wedgies and move towards him, rest my arms on his shoulders, kiss his forehead.

He makes the face, looks down at my feet and then shakes his head.
"It's because of those heels," he says, like I need to be told before I get too full of myself.

I nod and I smile. I kiss his nose.

He rolls his eyes.

My tallness reflects in no way on my husband's manliness. He is strong, sensitive, giving, caring, funny and tough and he would be no different if he was shorter still, or elongated. Buying pants for him would be easier if he was taller, but that is a mountain we can climb.
My children love to draw. They draw both at home and at school and quite often, they draw our family. The figures always start, left to right - Mommy, Daddy, My daughter, My son, Our cat.

I am the tallest.

It makes me proud.

It's not like I did anything to warrant praise or admiration for this.

"Hey you are tall," says a passing stranger.

"Thank you," I say.

No, it's not like that. Just like the situations when someone tells me my daughter is beautiful. I don't say thank you. I didn't make it happen. I made her happen, but I'm not responsible for her face.

She just is.

I usually say, "Isn't she?"

So I take great pleasure in nature giving me all my five feet eight (almost) inches. I was brought up in a Don't Feel Too Good About Yourself environment. My mother was very conscious that we not grow up to be arrogant adults. So I do not revel in much, I do not feel full of myself often.

But in this case, I feel I am free to luxuriate.

I suppose I am smug when I wear the three-inch wedgies. Allow me ten seconds of smug.

Whenever I hear a woman ping off a list of qualities she looks for in a man and one of those qualities is -

"He has to be taller than me" - 

she doesn't know what she is missing.

About the Author

Sarah Eddenden has had stories published on the web and in short story collections, and has also seen her work performed on stage in Toronto and Ottawa. She regularly writes about life, kids and the suburbs on her own website, canadianbitch.com, and spouts both praise for and criticism of the Leafs on goteamsgo.com. She lives with her family in the GTA.

...

Comments (1)add comment

Emilie said:

Sarah...now that the comment box seems to be functioning once again, I just wanted to say a huge THANK YOU for sharing this wonderful piece, I adore it! I think it's so important to hear other sides of the story about 'conventional' thought (i.e. that women like to be shorter than their male partners). I am 5'7", and I have many female friends who are taller than me, so talking about whether it matters how tall a partner is has been a popular topic of discussion over the years amongst us. Your positive spin and confidence on being the taller of the two is so refreshing and inspiring!
March 16, 2008

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