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I’m a person of brains, wit and empathy. I have a solid career, I speak to my mum regularly, and I go off in the sack. Too bad I’m short. Right?
As a white male, you’d think I would face zero discrimination. But as a white male under the magical line of 177 centimetres, I face a bit. It’s one that towers over all other discriminations, one that we all participate in. A minimum tolerated height. No-one likes a short-arse. And I am certainly that, according to your lofty beauty standards. By the sudden sound of ruined breakfasts and the immediate unmatching, I can tell you that I know this to be true. This heightism is socially akin to smelling like urine. Everyone can smell it, everyone knows it’s you, but no-one tells you that it’s a problem. They just point and make comments behind your back.
I’ve never been told I’m short, but I know I’ve not met people because of it.
In 2018, I noticed the news of the New York woman who decided to hold her own bootleg Tinder version of The Bachelor, we laughed, but it was an exercise in public humiliation…with a minimum height. According to numerous sources, those shorter than 5′ 10″ were turned away. You must be this tall to ride.
$MTCH Meanwhile, “The Bachelor” producers are probably upset that they didn’t think of this first, could have been a new franchise for them. Will be interesting to see if Tinder’s parent co Match Group has a response to this use of the service. https://t.co/VKVgvfGb1O
— North Bluff Capital (@bluff_capital) 21 August 2018
It’s probably worth mentioning that even those who met the standard went home empty-handed, but that’s entirely my point. Even in a public depantsing, we’re pre-emptively excluded. No, we can’t write off that breathing piece of toxic hubris in tight pants as an outlier, because let us be honest and frank and real. Ladies and dudes, how many times have you automatically rejected someone that you’d have to bend down to kiss?
Yeah. And look, I know what this sounds like. It seems like it should be yelled in a bagel shop. But you’re not God, my father, or my boss. I’m a real person, just really short.
I’ll admit that we’ve been represented poorly in the public eye. The bagel shop guy is not us, but he is in many ways. Clearly, he has a bevvy of issues to solve, but feeling victimised for being short is an easy cover-all to drape yourself in.
It’s obviously a social condition, much in the same way the hourglass figure, or the barrel chest is a thing. Someone once thought it was worth having, so we should all have it. I gots to have me a tall dude, I need someone to reach the highest shelf. Those who can’t can sod off.
On that note, the most infamously short person (the one whose name is attached to the complex that defines us), wasn’t actually short. It was propaganda that made Napoleon so. Listen to the extremely tall Stephen Fry; if we can set the minimum beauty standards as a negative, we can certainly do the same as a positive.
All we need to do is lower the bar.
I’m not asking for change, I’m just asking you to see it from my level. If not, I suggest that we make the insistence on size purely on one area, and we shall cleave society that way.
Yeah, doesn’t feel good, does it? Automatically classified on something that you were born with and cannot change. Think about it.