Heh, probably one planet over from the place where 5′7″ women are “tiny.” Yes, I’ve seen women say that!

(I’ve noticed that a lot of very tall people think they’re average–and that everyone else is a midget. It’s weird.)

I find that I group people into a “my height” category that stretches for three inches on either side of me, so my friends at 5′7″ are “short,” and my brother at 6′2″ is my height, but my boyfriend of 6′6″ is “tall”. I really do not differentiate at all between 5′8″ and 6′2″–it all gets lumped in at “around my size”.

I play water polo, therefore have really big shoulders, and often roam around with a LOUD tall posse of women. My two best friends are my height, and totally take no prisoners. It’s really fun to be tall with people rather than at people. We regularly get the “what sport do YOU play?” comment, and some of the guesses (Pro football! “Sacramento Kings Girls (Monarchs???)”) have been pretty funny.

When a woman on the street hits my radar as “tall,” I always want to talk to her–just the shared consciousness of having the same out-of-the-ordinary thing. But then I worry that I’m being one of the irritating “Gee, you’re tall” folks.

I have also felt size advantage in terms of street situations. The hypothetical sexual predator is probably not going to pick me over a shorter or less athletic woman to attack, and I appreciate that I can pass as male with an oversized coat on a dark night, but the reality is (as has been said before) that the presence of a rapist is what makes a situation dangerous, and most of the scary situations I’ve been in have been times on unsafe streets alone, where there’s no shorter women to choose from. So I try not to count on the height as a get out of jail free card for assault.

I also think that I feel less threatened (though no less offended) by catcalls on the street due to my height. Often the catcalls address the height, rather than the boobs, which is refreshing. Often people (ok, usually street people) mutter out loud to themselves as though I can’t hear them about my height.

I used to hate sticking out because of my height, but now I love it and wouldn’t trade it, except maybe for a day or two to see how the other half lives.

Also, word to this:

“Like I hear from smaller friends all the time that if they were my size, they wouldn’t worry about rape, and that I can’t really compare my experience as a woman to theirs. Well, I don’t think that’s exactly fair or accurate. Rape is about power, and while size does lend some power, so does social privilege and so sure as hell does a gun or a knife, which criminals have been known to carry. I may be big, but I still get scared and I still have to deal with sexism and misogyny.”

I do love that I can walk around somewhat more freely than most women, but my physical size and strength do not make me Wonder Woman. Bullets or knives will kill me just as they will kill anybody, and as I am completely untrained in any martial art, I would probably not be all that formidable in a fight.

When I was about thirty, professional situations with new people were routinely awful; I was humored, ignored, and received dismissive ‘aren’t-you-cute’ responses even when I was the senior in the room.

The solution that finally worked was to wear very high heels whenever I had to tell people what to do. At 5′ 6″, five inch heels can make a huge perception difference, and ramped up my physical presence enough to at least keep people from touching me, and put them off a little bit.
I still get carded, but all the grey in my hair (I get asked if ‘it’s real’), that I refuse to color, has made this less pronounced over time, and maybe now the end is in sight, but even though I’ve been lucky enough to avoid truly BAD experiences, it has been a very long lesson in the greater culture (men and women) viewing a women’s physicality as public property.
I’m sorry to rant this much, but this really strikes a nerve. I always wanted the kind of build that would make people think twice just by its inherent power…

I wish I were smaller. Hanging out with friends the other day, one of them yelled “Muppet hands!” and waved her hands around over her head. “I can’t do that,” I said. “I’ll break something.” She comes up to my collarbone; she has no idea how hard it is to be quiet and small when you’re as big as I am. I take up more space than I should. It’s embarrassing. I hate it. There’s nothing good about being tall.

It’s rude to walk into people and not apologise, no matter how tall you are. It’s rude when a 5′ tall person walks into a 3′ tall person and when a 7′ tall person walks into a 5′ tall person. Also, if you don’t look down when you’re walking in crowded places, you might walk into chewing gum and dogshit.

(Though perhaps my children shouldn’t be allowed to walk in public spaces, getting all their exercise at the baby gym?)

I’m 6′ tall, and reached that height sometime around age 15 or 16. I got fatter as I got older, so that I have reached truly Amazonian proportions now in my 50s. The worst comment I remember, though, was when I was barely 20 (and maybe about 210 pounds?). One of the security guards where I worked came face to face with me in a corridor and stopped dead in his tracks. He eyed me slowly up and down, then said, “I wouldn’t want to meet you in a dark alley!” Ugh.

As far as clothes go, well, I agree with the comment that mass-produced clothing is just never going to work for very many people. Everyone will have some problem or other. For me, it seems like those catalogs that have clothes large enough for my width (I currently weigh about 360 and usually wear around size 28) don’t believe that anyone that heavy can be TALL, too.

All too often I see catalogs crowing about having tall sizes, but when you check the charts, you see they only go up to about size 20 or so, and any “plus” sizes they offer are just “regular” length.

And clothing manufacturers never seem to realize that those of us with long legs tend to have long ARMS as well! A few tall/big long-sleeved shirts would be SO welcome! Once I ran across a jersey that was listed as “tall,” and bought it just because I could! (Didn’t even like the thing, really, but hey! long sleeves that cover my wrists!)

Thanks for opening up this discussion.

I’ve learned to accept my height to the point where I actually rather enjoy it and have no trouble carrying myself confidently, but it took quite awhile to get here.