Size Does Matter (When It Comes to Height, That Is)

I have something to tell you: I am not petite. At 5’10 and not a size 4, I am what many would consider a biggish girl. And that makes it hard to date. Especially because I want to date a nice, Jewish boy…who also happens to be bigger than me. No offense to my people out there, but there are very few Jewish males who reach above 5’5. (And I have been looking for years!)
People always yell at me and tell me I am being too picky, (“What is the big deal?” “Why not someone who is at least your height??”) but I can’t help it. And trust me – I have tried.
Last weekend, I went home with a very attractive boy – my height, super hot …but really, really skinny. I was already nervous enough to strip down to my skivvies, considering my post beer belly. But, thanks to the power of that very beer, I was feelin’ frisky, so strip I did. We had our fun. When it was time to go to bed, though, I couldn’t find my undergarments in the pile of clothes on the floor, so the boy threw me a pair of his boxers to sleep in. And it was like putting in a pair of Spanx. Or plaid biker shorts.
Totally true.
Totally embarrassing.
Talk about feeling like less of a woman; I felt like a total heffer. Any sort of confidence and feeling of sexiness went right out the window. Which is exactly where I wanted to go. All of my insecurities came rushing back and my desire to only date someone bigger than me was confirmed.
People are always talking about Tom Cruise and his various super tall wives, but there is a big difference between me and Katie Holmes (besides the fact that I am not some silent Scientologist). She is famous…and glamorous… and is married to Tom Freaking Cruise. She could have 6 eyes and be 12 feet tall and no one would care.
But it’s different for me. I don’t live in a land of Oscar parties and red carpets. I live in the real world. A world where I may want to wear heels from time to time, or get on top without suffocating my man. A world where I can look up at my boyfriend…or curl up in his oversized sweatshirt. Not rest my beer can on his head or borrow a t-shirt when I am feelin’ like sporting a baby tee.
I am sure I could love someone who is shorter if I tried, but I can’t seem to get myself to give them a second glance (after I look right over the top of their heads when I scan the scene at the bar). Maybe it’s just me, but there is something about wearing the same size pants as your boyfriend that sorta changes things. I want to feel like a petite lady in my relationship – is that so wrong?

Seriously, DO NOT Look Up Your Ex
Seriously, DO NOT Look Up Your Ex
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