Do you have extra long? Oh. Your long is not long enough.
Woe to another failed attempt at finding the perfect pair of jeans. Welcome to the life of a
5-foot-10.5-inch Korean girl.
But finding pants that go to my ankles is just one of my troubles. Imagine walking amid a
crowd of people and all you see is the top of heads. Imagine that the majority of your
friends' eye-level is your neck. (Talk about exposing your double chin.) Imagine having to
bend over or awkwardly lean in order to look considerably normal when taking photos with
a group of friends. I don't need to imagine. This is my life every single day.
Whenever I meet someone for the first time, my height is mentioned. People will ask my
dimensions, assume I play basketball, point out the advantages of being tall and remark on
the rarity of being tall and Korean. Sometimes the comments are flattering (Korean ajumas
always insist I try out for Miss Korea or demand that I become a model), but I've always
wondered how life would be if I wasn't tall. The initial conversation with awkward
introductions would never lead to, "Wow! You're tall!" I imagine that regular-sized people
get told things like, "Wow! You have great hair!" Those rare moments when someone
points out a characteristic of mine other than height, I blush with joy. And when short
people say, "Wow! You're tall," I itch to exclaim, "Wow! You're short!" But apparently,
that's an insult.
My growth spurt began in elementary school. Back then it felt like the more I ate, the more
I grew vertically. I would have much rather gained weight than height. Fat can be burned
off, but height? You're stuck forever.
As the tallest girl in class, I had to stand in the back row with the boys for all the class
photos. The world of elementary school teasing began, and I was called all sorts of names,
ranging from "boy" to "totem pole." At one point I put heavy books on my head to try and
shrink, but the height gap between my peers and I only increased over time.
I began to hate my height even more as I entered the world of dating. I went to high school
in a predominantly Korean neighborhood in Orange County with many boys who had not
yet received their growth spurt. I had little crushes here and there but was afraid to show
my feelings, convinced that they would be horrified by the giant who had a crush on them. I
found myself becoming the confidant of guy friends seeking girl advice as clearly no one
would mistake me as anything more than a friend.
My guy friends often told me that while many men deny it, men like girls who seem a bit
weak or lacking in a certain area. This way, they can feel as if they are protecting the girl
and completing her. The girls they chose were often small, weak, 100-pound beauties. I
obviously didn't fall in that category. One friend even told me that I would be intimidating
to date. My height made me look too strong-willed and independent. He said I would be
good for marriage but not dating. Apparently, the two are not connected.
Throughout high school, I had absolutely no luck in the field of love. A lot of that was my
own fault. I didn't put myself out there and believed my insecurities. My brain knew that
there had to be guys out there who liked tall girls, but my heart told me otherwise. I wanted
with all my heart to be that cute, short Korean girl that the boys can protect. Though I may
have appeared confident, I wanted someone to shelter me from the storm too - if he could
reach that high.
Whenever I saw a tall Korean guy, he was automatically a potential love interest. I'd get so
angry when short girls dated tall guys. Come on! Save the tall ones for the tall women who
are desperately limited in their choices! At the same time, I know that I have something
against men who are shorter than me. Which is another form of being insecure and limiting
myself.
I am now a college student and still single. I have never dated in my life. I can't wear heels,
for fear of being extra extra tall. And, of course, there's the struggle to find jeans that fit
right. Knee socks never reach my actual knee. I am still teased about my height and still
self-conscious in public.
But I'm making an effort to see life as a glass half full. With every negative aspect of my
height, there is a positive. I stand out from a crowd and whether I like it or not, it's a good
thing. I have the upper hand in getting jobs and internships because I catch the eye of the
employer. When a friend loses me in a crowd, all she has to do is look up and she'll find
me. I'm also easy to remember, because if anyone gets confused at who I am, just mention
"the tall girl" and you'll find the connection immediately.
I won't lie to you. I still wish I was a bit shorter. Five feet, seven inches sounds pretty good.
But I have grown comfortable in my own skin. I am who I am, and somebody out there is
going to love me. All 5 feet, 10.5 inches of me.