Being Petite

Being petite means more than being short, though short I am, at a respectable but below-average five feet two and a half. (One never says "six feet two and a half," does one? Unless one feels awkward at six feet three.) My wrists are too small to wear bracelets, and I add an extra hole to my leather watch bands and have links removed from my metal ones. Most rings slip off my skinny fingers, making street fairs less than fruitful. Unless I am lucky enough to find a "petite" style that eschews frumpiness, every pair of pants I buy needs to be shortened. I cannot wear shirts or dresses that are loose-fitting unless I want to resemble a little girl playing dress-up with Mommy's clothes. A hat pulled down properly on my head will likely cover my eyes. Shopping for sunglasses has become, in this era of gigantic sunglasses, a humiliating process for me and my petite face.

And that's just fashion. Only recently have I begun to wonder how my petiteness has shaped my personality, my relationships, my choices in life. A favorite pastime in my youth was the piano; I didn't have the singing voice to be a pop star, so romantic notions of concert pianism tickled the ivories of my imagination. When did those notions go quiet? When I found myself unable to play the most difficult jazz and classical pieces because my hands couldn't span the distance between notes? I tend to walk behind people rather than lead the way; could the shortness of my stride have conditioned me to do so? Would my relationship with my boyfriend be different if I weren't looking up at him all the time?

Sun-kissed cheeks make me feel healthier and more attractive. A fresh-out-of-the-salon haircut adds some extra sashay to my step. Sporadic periods of muscle tone bring with them sporadic spikes in self-confidence. Has the mind-body connection also caused the size of my frame to frame my view of the world? If so, I resolve to focus on the positive:

• I can fit into narrow seats between large people on the subway.


• Sometimes I can buy capri pants and wear them as full-length pants.


• Animals and children like me, perhaps because I'm close to their level.


• It would be relatively easy for me to hide unnoticed in a closet if a psycho killer broke into my home.


• If I were tall I would always see the world from above, the big picture--but I might miss the details that cluster low to the ground. And climbing high into the Umbrian mountains to look down on vast, magnificent views might have felt a little less magnificent. A little. If I weren't petite.