Hey, Holly Burt, I feel your pain.
Holly Burt is a 22-year-old design student from Florida, USA. She is 6 feet 5 inches tall and her legs are 49.5 inches long. That is over 125cm of legs.
Burt is tall.
Burt told The Daily Mail, “If I see someone in a bar who is taller than me I will go straight over and try to chat him up.”
And you know what? As a fellow tall girl, I feel Burt’s pain. I have been 5ft 11in since the age of 12. I definitely feel you on this one, Holly.
I have the same rule. I’m sorry
not sorry, but I don’t want to date men who are shorter than me.
I also know what it’s like to spot Mr Tall Man and immediately start planning your life together, before pausing to ask yourself:
I know what it’s like to feel that pang of jealously and have that voice in your head scream “BUT IT’S JUST NOT FAIR!” when you spot a not-so-tall lady with a boyfriend over 6ft 5.
Burt said, “Back in middle school I was called daddy long legs, tree or giraffe.”
I know what it’s like to have to laugh politely and say “the weather ‘up here’ is fine.”
Unlike Burt, I don’t play basketball. But I know what it’s like to be asked if I do. Or if I play volleyball. Or netball. Or any sport where height is an advantage.
I know what it’s like not to be able to see your hair AND your feet at the same time in a ‘full-length’ mirror or photograph.
I know what it’s like to have people exclaim, “Gosh! You’re tall,” as if they are the first person to have noticed it.
I know what it’s like to have been made to stand in the back row of school photos, when all you wanted was to sit cross legged on the floor like all the other girls.
I know what it is like to be told, “But you’re so tall. You don’t need to wear heels.” No I don’t, nor does anyone really. But I want to. And I’m going to.
Holly Burt, I get you.
And I’m very pleased to hear that “New York is full of tall, hot men.”
So excuse me, I’m off to pack my bags and buy a ticket to The Big Apple.