No matter how close I pull to the drive through thingy at the bank, THIS happens. I can’t reach the buttons, and I can’t open my door because I’ve pulled so close. I have to carry a pen in my car so I can have the luxury of banking from my vehicle.

Some backstory: I’m five feet, two inches tall; and I drive a teeny tiny sports car.

By most standards, I’m petite. Short. Tiny. Small. You name it, I’ve heard it. Interestingly, I am the tallest female in my immediate family. Next to my mom and sister, I’m an Amazon!

Being tiny in a taller world has an interesting set of challenges. High school kids taller than me make me question whether I’m REALLY an adult. Toilets, for the love of god, are now so tall that sometimes my feet don’t touch the floor. This is weird, and that’s all I’m going to say about it. Back in my serving days, bartending was, quite literally, “out of reach.” Most of the places I worked had racks of glasses overhead, which I could never quite reach. How about the elegant touch of proper wine service while dining out? My small stature comes with tiny hands…which makes presenting a bottle of wine in a high class establishment quite a challenge.

I’ve found many good things about being small:
Hugs, lots of them. If you need a hug, someone is almost always willing to give you one. The best kind of hugs? When an old friend or a lover sweeps you up into their arms, maybe picking you up and swinging you around. There is nothing in the world like an all-engulfing bear hug.
High heels! Every darn day! (well, almost). I have a built-in excuse: I need them!
Knee length, or slightly shorter, skirts. A longer skirt overwhelms the petite frame.
Built-in pick up lines: asking a tall, dark, and handsome stranger if he can reach something for you (works.every.time!), or if he can see over the crowd for you.
Shopping in the children’s section sometimes…the clothing is less expensive, and it may fit better without alteration.
My teeny tiny sports car. It fits me perfectly. I don’t have to hunch, scrunch, or slouch to fit. Nor do I have to sit on anything or boost myself forward to see over the steering wheel.
Just like other things in life, being petite has good points and bad ones. I have never once truly wished I was taller.