Most of my life, I have only been attracted to tall men. Yes, I know – what woman isn’t?! But for some reason – just today, I swear today as I find myself yet alone this gorgeous weather weekend and watching how my step Dad treats my Mom after 35 years of marriage, I truly admit to myself I do not want to be alone. Being alone in the hospital, being alone in bed, being alone in line, always alone is not how I want to live my life anymore. Sure I am okay alone, but who wants to be just okay??
It also dawned on me, after having an hour long conversation with a nice, shorter man that I have been guilty of perpetuating the stupid stereotypes that pervade our society and way of thinking for far way too long. Being obsessed with height — in a way that I would never obsess about any one of their other qualities — has been bad for me, bad for my dating experiences, and reinforces a society that says physical traits we can’t control are more important than who we really are. If I want to truly find someone willing to accept and love me -warts and all – then I need to do the same … somehow.
Height was always one of those inane deal breakers, for me. I never minded what a man did to earn a living, as long as he was hard working, honest, dependable, stable. I never minded what kind of car a man drove. I never expected a man to buy me jewelry or take me to expensive places. It never mattered to me what religion a man was as long as he was spiritual, caring, kind, thoughtful, empathetic.
But that towering look, that false sense of security I would have walking next to a tall man – is just that – false. I get it. I was surrounded by tall men growing up – at my 5’2″ that is an easy thing to accomplish. My grandfather, my Dad, my brother, my favorite male cousins all were 6 feet or taller. They made me feel safe, so I equated that with their height. I need to rethink this. Sure, I thought I was most attractive when I look itty bitty compared to my male partner. But really, should this matter? How superficial is this really coming across?
I need to re-evaluate my thoughts on the ideal man – for me, myself. I truly want someone who is confident, a man who is secure in his own skin (and height), who shows they can handle unfamiliar people or situations. A man who actually listens – hears what I am saying, takes the time to understand me, and makes time for me. A generous man would be ideal – and I don’t mean springing for dinner at a four-star restaurant – I crave his willingness to give his time and lend an ear and a helping hand or two.
I have learned that I want a man who is intelligent – and I don’t mean he needs to have a degree or two, or MD after his name – want a worldly, interesting man – a take-charge type; a problem solver, a man who is always trying to learn; improve, means to me, never boring. Intelligence is sexy! I need to know they are passionate about things. When a man, heck a person for that matter, is passionate about something, anything – their face lights up – it’s proof that they care for and about something beyond themselves. That is contagious. It’s inspiring to me and lets me know that he is living a life he loves. Oh who doesn’t need a sense of humor?! Being able to laugh at the stresses of this world is a must. My life is harsh reality at best – so I truly need to let my hair down and just cry laughing.
Yes, so many real tangible qualities I am looking for in a man – his height should not be the deal breaker. I am going to recite this to myself each and every day.
I know what I want, deserve – now I just have to find some time and make a real effort in finding it. I want that hand holding, caress of the face, sit next to each other watching TV kind of life … in search of my lobster … with grace in my step and hope in my heart …