By the time I was in high school I had perfected the way I stood. I shifted my weight to one leg and then to the other when one got tired in order to make myself look shorter. I was nominated prom queen my senior year and the prom king, Brent Bostwick, was about 5’4. The picture that will go down in history as the official royal court photo has me standing next to him on the platform BAREFOOT in my now infamous, stance. I remember feeling self-conscious about standing next to him because I felt like a giant.
In college it was the same thing. When high heels were in, instead of keeping up with the current fashions, I would wear flats or lower heels in an effort to take attention away from my height.
Moving to California was liberating for me when it came to my height. I still had “issues” with it but there seemed to be way more tall women here than there were in Omaha. Not only that, these women seemed to care more about being in style than they did about their height. THEY WORE HEELS FOR DAYS!! And I began to do the same.
During this time I became more and more comfortable with it and I realized that men in California LOVED and appreciated tall women. So I began loving and appreciating my height. The problem was that the love came from the outside in. If they loved me for my height, then I loved me for my height. If they didn’t appear to accept my height, then I would lament over it.
Through the years as I have learned to accept and love myself, I began to accept and love all of the unique things about me. My height cannot not be changed. It is how I was made…and if I am made in God’s image, then how dare I NOT love and appreciate it?
After 30 years of teaching myself that my height was something to be ashamed of and self-conscious about, I finally reached a point where I have learned to accept it. I am learning to fall in love with it…I guess you could say I’m “in like” with it, and I’m slowly falling in love. I wear heels…I LOVE shoes and would not dare deny myself the pleasure of rocking a pair of hot platforms, cute stacked sandals, or sexy high-heeled boots.
Now I use my mind and heart at the same time to help me unlearn that infamous stance (shifting from one leg to the next). It had become as familiar to me as my name. When I catch myself doing it or find myself in situations that drive me into that automatic shrinkage mode, I show love towards myself by repeating this affirmation:
“I am made in God’s image. I love God, I love me AND I love my height”
God gives me opportunities all of the time to show love towards myself about my height. Last week I hopped into a cab headed to the airport. The cab driver, a guy from Ghana, was friendly but quiet for most of the ride. As we were pulling up to the terminal he asked me where I was from.
“Nebraska,” I said.
He said, “Do you know where you’re family came from?”
I said, “No, probably West Africa.” He didn’t respond.
As he handed me my bags he said, “I thought maybe you were from Nigeria. In Nigeria, tall women are special people.” They are strong, powerful, and confident. That’s who you remind me of.”
I smiled and said thank you. I walked into the airport strutting my strongest, most powerful and confident walk. With my heels clicking loudly on the concrete floor I thought to myself, ‘Yeh, that’s who I am.
For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made. -Psalm 139: 13-14
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