Like, REALLY tall.
Guest Post by Caitlin
A couple of years ago I had just finished dinner with friends at a restaurant that was organized like a diner. The check came to the table but you had to go up to the register to pay. The register was manned by this little hawk of a woman who divided her time between glaring at her wait staff and glaring at the customers who were either coming in and not closing the door fast enough, or customers, like me, who approached the register, head-down, searching my bottomless purse for my wallet when… bam! I walked right into a chandelier that was hung over the register only about 6 feet from the floor. The chandelier swung wildly from the impact and I wobbled a bit myself. The lady at the register, barely 5’-4”, reached up, grabbed the chandelier to steady it, and then said to me in absolute disgust, “you know, you should watch where you are going…you’re a very tall person!” Thanks. You must be surprised but I know that. I am 6’-4” and I figured that out all by myself. Sigh.
OK, so I’m tall. What of it? There are lots of tall women in the world. I used to love going to Southern Comfort in Atlanta because I could walk into that hotel lobby and NOT be the tallest woman in the hotel…sometimes by a lot. If you were there during those golden years of Southern Comfort you might remember the absolutely gorgeous blonde from the Netherlands who had to be 6’-7”…in flats. And, she wore 4” stilettos! There were plenty of other girls well over 6’, too. But after coming out of my shell about 10 years ago I learned to just “own it.” I’m tall.
I can’t change it. I may as well be proud of who I am and enjoy the view from up here! Like my old multi-engine flight instructor told me, “taxi up to the front door of the terminal like you own the place.” And that’s how I’ve learned a tall person needs to enter the room…like you own the place. You are tall, proud, fun, compassionate and beautiful. So there!
Above a photo of me ready to go out on the town in Rehoboth a year or two ago. If you have long legs, celebrate them! But one caution: in a few weeks I’ll be heading up to Harrisburg, PA to attend the Keystone Conference (KC). I can’t believe that my first KC was ten years ago! I remember getting dressed for my first Saturday night formal. I had a great dress and my friend, Amanda Richards, did my wig in a pretty updo with lots of girly tendrils. Three-inch glittery heels completed the look. I felt sooooo good going out the door.
I took two steps down the hall and my wig was pulled right off my head! The top of it was caught in a sprinkler head! OMG! The hair was entwined in the star-shaped water deflector that was just below the delicate glass vial that is the trigger for the sprinkler. So, there I stood, like a member of the bomb-squad, carefully untangling the wig, hair by hair, without touching the tiny glass vial. Success! I returned to the room to make a few adjustments and then I was out the door again. Still tall. Still proud. But also a little more careful. After all, I’m a really tall person! :)