Short, and Grateful

On my mother’s side of my genetic tree, I come from a long line of short people. My

maternal grandmother did not make it to 5’. Her many siblings, spread over Butler and

Muhlenberg counties in Kentucky, never reached over 5’2”. The men were small and

“wiry”. Salt of the earth farmers, miners and laborers. The women could be described

the same way. My mother was 5’1” tall.

My father was around 5’10, considered as “average” for men in the U.S. His family

members were mostly the same height, including his aunts. My dad claimed he would

have been taller if he had a neck and therefore would score better on the obesity scales

– yes, if he only had a neck. A dubious claim at best. My two cousins on my father’s

side are both taller than me and my siblings. Their mother was tall and came from a

family of tall men and women.

I am 5’7”. Actually, with a little spine compression from age, closer to 5’6” these days. I

was smaller than most kids in my classes and did not reach my full height until I was a

senior in high school. Not only was I short, but I was also what was often referred to as

a “late bloomer.”

Perhaps all of that has been a bit of my struggle with self-image and confidence.

Perhaps it is the genesis of some my drive toward over-performance, perfectionism, and

need to be affirmed and liked. As I write that, I have a sense that it is an

oversimplification. There are many experiences, family narratives, parental expectations

and such that shape my identity. Yet, I am aware that my size has always been an

internal issue. I wished I was taller for as long as I can remember being aware of

physical differences.

There were a few unkind things said by kids growing up, for sure. And society, the

fashion industry and general marketing themes all present images of ideal men that I

don’t measure up to. But I honestly think the struggle was internalized ideals more than

anything anyone else said to me directly.

It is actually freeing to name that. It means I own it and can adjust my own perspective.

I come from good genetic stock. Hard working, loving, and generous people who have

gifted me, genetically and experientially, with so many other attributes than my height. I

do celebrate that. I don’t mean to imply that it has taken me 73 years to come to that.

But I confess it has been an evolutionary journey over many years. It is a shame that

self-acceptance takes so much time and work.

I am grateful for my inheritance. I am grateful for my ancestors who were small in

physical stature, but big on so many things that really mattered. I am grateful for the

 work ethic and love for people and community that was modeled. I alone am

responsible for any misappropriation of those lessons.

So, there you go. I am a short and grateful man.