What It's Actually Like To Be The Token Tall Girl


10_6_RealTalk The annual trip to the doctor for a physical exam has got to be one of my all-time favorite days of the year. The highlight probably being that I finally get the chance to pee in a cup and smile while I hand my urine to a complete stranger. But I must say, the “height and weight” evaluation is a close contender.

I’ve had the same doctor for over five years now, and every single time she measures my height she’s utterly shocked — it’s as if she just heard JFK was shot. She says, “Oh my, you’re in the 97th percentile, wow!” So naturally, I picture myself lined up with 99 other women, standing on the very far right of the line next to two “girls” who’ve been taking steroids for so long that they’ve got fully grown mustaches. Then I sigh and try to think about ice cream like I was before.

My friends call me the human noodle. I’m 5-foot-9 and 3/4, but not 5-foot-10. Yes, there is a difference, and yes, it’s important. If Harry Potter rounded up when Hagrid said to go to Platform 9 3/4 he would’ve ran straight into a brick wall and one the best selling book series of all time wouldn’t exist. No one would give a shit what Hermione has to say about feminism and J.K. Rowling would still be writing gibberish on napkins. So yeah, it matters.

A few weeks ago I went to a house party on campus. It was a Thursday night, baby, and I was alive. When I went to choose my outfit for the night, a pair of shoes that I’d recently bought at Marshalls caught the corner of my eye. Let it be known that these shoes were under fifty bucks and are without a doubt the coolest thing I have ever or will ever own, and I had Heely’s in 7th grade so that statement carries significant weight. As Chandler from Friends would say, they were a friggin’ steal. So I thought, what the hay. I could be 6-6-foot-2 for a night. Fuck it.

Three “men” approached me that night. The first opened the conversation with, “How are you so tall?” The second said, “Why are you so tall?” And the third… Brace yourselves, this is the kicker... He asked, “Why are you the way you are?”

All three questions pissed me off. To the men reading this, please don’t ask me, or any girl for that matter, why they’re tall. We don’t ask you why your penises are so small. And as for the last question, all I could respond with was, “I don’t really know, I was born this way.” I know I’m tall, but I’m not a monster. I don’t bite (unless I’m provoked).

You’d think the experience would’ve made me consider sticking to flats from now on, but in fact, I’m doing the exact opposite. My advice to my fellow giants is to be tall and rock it. So what if you’re taller than 97 percent of girls? My legs might not fit in school bus seats and I might have to duck under the showerhead when I bathe, but I can probably kick 97 percent of your asses. And I can do it in heels, too.