ExposedNYC

A good friend and I got into a discussion tonight over what he likes to call the last acceptable discrimination allowed in dating- heightism. The topic arose in response to tall women, but expanded to include male and female responses to something that none of us have any control over whatsoever.

My gut instinct was to go on the defensive. Since both he and I are fairly average height, respectively, I felt comfortable admitting that I have a hard time dating men shorter than I am. Although I admit that it is partially physical chemistry, there is also definitely a social aspect to it.

We began the discussion with the idea that men are “supposed to be” larger, and women smaller. What becomes difficult is separating a weight issue from height. Many shorter women, even if they are not petite can still be considered “small”, while taller women are judged more harshly if they are muscular or curvy (or, if not, immediately recruited to the model standard of 2% of the population).

One of the reasons why many of the women I know choose not to date men shorter than themselves is that it makes them feel less feminine. All things equal, a shorter man would become more desirable if physically fit, but would then be more threatening to a self-conscious woman of greater height but a lower level of physical fitness. Sadly, in this equation, the little guy gets screwed (or in actuality, doesn’t).

Tall women are also put in a difficult position. Femininity is generally accepted in our society as softer and smaller. As I experienced on New Year’s Eve, walking down the street with three showgirls all close to six feet tall, they are looked at as a spectacle. One of the reasons we caught eyes with a particular pair of guys is that they were both over six feet tall.

There is something instinctually comforting about the idea of a taller man who can protect you, not to mention make you look smaller by comparison. Now, I’m in no way advocating these ideas as acceptable standards, but they do exist. I admitted to my friend that part of my attraction likely comes from memories of my childhood. One of the safest places in I can imagine has always been hugging my father, six-foot-three, who could rest his chin on top of my head.

When examined, it actually concerns me that something so superficial and unchangeable has such an effect on my preferences. But, it’s one that I’m willing to own up to and accept. We all have our likes and dislikes, and I’m going to hang on to one of the last politically incorrect frontiers.

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