I was always the tallest girl in my class. While it was fun in elementary school to stand at the front of the line and be able to brag to the boys that I was inches, maybe even a foot, taller than them, it got progressively less enjoyable as I grew up. While my height kept increasing, my weight didn’t keep up and I became lanky which is when the teasing started. I grew more and more self-conscious every day. I cringed every time the doctor congratulated me for growing another inch. I slouched every time I would stand up to try to disguise how tall I really was. I would even knock an inch or two off every time someone asked me the specifics about my height. Now, at 20-years-old and 5’11, I’ve fully embraced my height.
The hardest and final step for me in accepting my height was feeling confident in high heels. I wore flats to almost every single homecoming and prom in high school. Senior year, when my date asked me to wear flats so I would be the same height as him, not any taller, I kindly declined and bought a pair of kitten heels. Granted, they were no more than an inch and a half tall, but they were considered heels nonetheless and it was the start of this final leg of my journey to acceptance.
Freshman year of college when I started going out more, I realized my vans and flat sandals would not be cutting it every Thursday, Friday and/or Saturday. I felt too dressed down and wanted to be able to walk down the streets with poise and confidence like I’d seen so many girls my age doing.
One night, I was going to a party and everyone was dressed up. I went to a friend’s apartment to get ready and everyone decided that what my outfit was missing was a better pair of shoes. My friend brought out a pair of strappy, black heels that I knew would make my outfit really stand out but they would also be the tallest heel I’ve ever worn, four inches to be exact.
I swallowed my fear and convinced myself that I could survive one night in these daunting shoes. I slipped them on from that moment on I was hooked.
I might have looked like a baby deer the first time I stood up in them and most likely every time I took a step that night, but I felt good…really good.
I’ve never been one of those girls who’s super obsessed with collecting shoes, but I am now the proud owner of four pairs of high heels in closed toed, open toed and boot form.
I tower over everyone in pictures, I’m always taller than the boys around me, I struggle on our campus’ sidewalks — and I do it all with confidence and great posture.Â
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