You know, it seems like nobody is content with the way they look. Whether it’s their weight, hips, hair and legs, the list goes on.
In my case, it’s my height. Not that I stress over it or anything.
I’m five feet tall and it wouldn’t hurt if I were a couple of inches taller.
I’ve noticed that people think it is so amusing to crack short jokes. They never get tired of them; short jokes never seem to die down.
“Hey Alex, are you tall enough to go on that ride.”
“Hey I thought I lost you there for a second.”
“Can I put you in my pocket?”
“Hey I bet you can fit in most oversized compartments!”
No matter how old these jokes are, people think they are so hilarious. I actually got used to them and even high five them for such a great joke well sometimes.
Ever since elementary school I have dealt with these incessant comments.
I remember always being the first in line or on the front row of the class picture.
For Halloween, my second grade class had the theme of the “Wizard of Oz,” and we all had to dress up as characters from the movie. I of course wanted to be Dorothy, but I got stuck with the munchkin group from munchkin land.
My third grade year we dressed up as characters from Peter Pan, and guess who I had to be Tinkerbell of course.
In sixth grade, when all the girls were going through their growth spurt and were taller than the boys, I was still the same ol’ little Alex.
Now, I still go through similar problems.
My feet still dangle when I’m sitting down, and people still seem to enjoy resting their arms on my head.
When I drive I have to pull the seat up closer to the steering wheel to reach the pedals better. What is so funny is that when I’m driving with my friends, no one calls shotgun for the front seat, they call shotgun for the seat behind me because it gives them more space to rest their feet.
Pathetic, but true.
In certain places I even have the opportunity to park in disabled parking spots because of my height. How embarrassing is that.
Being short is not a form of disability, people!
These things don’t really anger me, but there are some occasions when comments like I have mentioned do get on my nerves.
For example, I remember my roommate and I were having computer difficulties, and we were doing our best to fix it. So I called my friend and told him of our problem, and he told me:
“Oh Alex, you probably looked cute trying to fix the computer.”
It’s just a comment, but I think it goes beyond that. Terms like: cute, kiddo, etc. bother me.
Well enough about my bickering.
I am actually pretty satisfied with the way I look. I may not be as tall as I want, and I don’t mind that certain parts of my body are not the size that is most desired. I really don’t care.
I am not vulnerable or weak. I do not need special care or attention. Size really doesn’t matter or define who you are.
So for those of you who are are unhappy with your height or weight, don’t stress about it. I seriously believe that everyone looks different for a good reason. How boring it would be if we all looked the same.
Alejandra Molina, a sophomore journalism major, is LV Life editor of the Campus Times. She can be reached by e-mail at firstname.lastname@example.org.
Journalism operations manager at the University of La Verne. Production manager and business manager of the Campus Times.