I’m Not Short, I’m a Fun Size

My prayer partner and I in matching dresses.
Though the same size, I am actually 20 years older than her

For those who know me, I’m sure it’s no secret I’m extremely short.  At 29 years old, I stand at the towering height of 4 foot 9.  I love my size, but my diminutive stature causes me to look 12-15 years younger than I am.  I can’t tell you the countless times I’ve been offered a children’s menu at restaurants as an adult in my late 20’s.  There are times it’s been frustrating, but I’ve learned to own my uniqueness, I’ve learned to laugh at the blunders it can bring from others. Learning to laugh at the questions I get from people because of my Polly Pocket status, is an art I’m so glad I mastered, because it got me through when I experienced the blunder to end all blunders.

         It was spring semester of my junior year at Asbury.  At this point in my college career I was gaining confidence I had never had before.  New possibilities were on the horizon.  Basically, I was gaining a swag I never knew I had. 

         One night I was having dinner in the cafeteria with my roommate.  This particular evening, I decided to venture out and see if there was anything good at the main buffet, even though I usually opted to get a sandwich, a salad, a piece of pizza, or even a bowl of cereal. 

         I took my place in the back of the line and in front of me was a girl, not much taller than myself.  She kept looking over her shoulder at me, so I offered a smile, which caused her to face me. When I saw this girl’s face, I immediately thought she was a freshman or possibly even a prospective student checking out the campus. 

         “Can I ask you a question?”

         “Sure!” I said enthusiastically thinking she’s going to ask me something like where the biology building was or for directions to the library.  I was fully ready to give Asbury an amazing endorsement and reasons why she should attend my college.

         “Are you a dwarf?” She asked very serious and solemnly as if she was about to give me a diagnosis, which little did I know she was. 

         I stared at her for a few seconds, absolutely baffled at what I had just been asked.  “Um, no, I’m not a dwarf.  I’m just really short.”

         She looked at me compassionately, as if she was about to deliver a bombshell.  “I actually really think you are.  You see, I did a paper on dwarfism and I’m pretty sure you’re a dwarf.”

         I thought it was unreal for her to ask me this in the first place, but for her to argue with the answer I gave her, made me feel as if I was being punked.  I can only imagine the “are you for real,” look I had on my face.

         “Uhhh, no I promise you I’m not a dwarf. I’m just extremely short.”

         But once again, I was wrong.  “I think  you are, because I wrote a paper on dwarfism.”

         Completely floored, I knew I had to put an end to this conversation. I raised my hand to keep her from talking again, “I promise I’m not a dwarf. But you have a great night,” and walked away sure I just had an out of body experience. 

         I finally managed to get dinner and sat down to eat with my roommate.  “So a girl in the main line just asked me if I was a dwarf.”

         “She did what?!”

         “Yep, and when I told her I wasn’t, she assured me I was because she had done a paper on dwarfism.”

Me with my friends...though the same age,
they tower over me

         My experience that night was a source of much laughter for my roommate and I the rest of the semester, but little did we know, the laughter was just beginning. 

         Fast forward to fall semester of my senior year.  I had a journalism class in the media communications building on the second floor.  I made my way out of the elevator, turned the corner and found out that God indeed does have a sense of humor. Lo and behold, there in the lobby that I had to pass through to get to my class, was the girl who asked me if I was a dwarf.  Out of a student body of 1200 people, I would have to come face to face with the girl who gave me my unexpected diagnosis seven months earlier. 

I began to walk pass her and our eyes met.  I smiled at her, determined no matter what I would be kind.

“You look familiar,” she told me.

“Umm, I guess you look kind of familiar too,” not daring to tell her who I was. 

Suddenly, her eyes got as wide as saucers, “You’re that girl I thought was a dwarf!”

Chuckling in utter disbelief, “Yep, that’s me.”

“But aren’t you really a dwarf?”  She asked in a last ditch effort to persuade me.

“No, I’m not.  Look at my body it’s—

“It’s not proportional is it?” she jumped in to finish my sentence.

“Umm, yes it’s proportional.  But I’ve got to get to class.  You have a great day.”

I walked away, trying to suppress my laughter.  Because really what else could you do,  but double over in laughter at this surreal, yet very real story.  My only prayer was she never saw me walking on campus with my Mom, because that would have really blown her mind.

So the take away from this hilarity is this. I don’t know what you have that makes you unique or stand out, but I encourage you to own it! When someone makes a blunder at your expense, laugh it off, because God made you knowing how much this world needed you.  After all, learning to laugh at yourself when someone makes you feel small, will only cause you to grow— no pun intended.