Foreword

Greetings! I'm Molly. This is my first blog experience and I'm pretty dang excited about it. There are a variety of reasons why I've decided to embark on this pseudo-assignment.
I'd like to make it clear that I am not an aspiring photographer, and I don’t pretend to be. Some of my closest friends and family are exceptionally talented in that area, but I can’t say it has ever been a genuine passion of mine.
Onto business. Recently, many of my Facebook friends caught my attention with albums titled “30 day challenge”, in which they followed a list of topics via photos that defined them. All of this for a period of - you guessed it - 30 days. I wanted to pursue this in my own way by making my own ‘list’. (Side note, I have planning this for the past few weeks; likely driving my roommate crazy by scrawling ideas onto paper in the middle of the night.) Regardless, I am excited for my ideas to come to fruition, and truly hope it turns out the way I have been imagining it. I invite you to leave comments on anything I post. I have always been a firm believer that knowing what everyone else thinks, does, in fact, matter. It puts things into perspective and allows us to be well-rounded individuals, which is definitely a quality I would hope to be recognized as.
One primary hesitation I have about this project is ultimately how self-centered it is. Completely. It can be chalked up to self-expression, art, or anything else… but in the end, things like this are primarily concerned with “me” and “I”. I struggle with this in an age of social media. Since the time I had a Myspace at age 16, I began this practice (we began this practice) of showcasing ourselves and finding endless ways to portray how unique we were. With Facebook and Twitter, I find it to be a double-edged sword. I want everyone to see… and yet, I don’t want anyone to see. Sometimes, all I really want, all I really need, is an outlet to mass-communicate my rawest emotions on a medium where no one is guaranteed to see it.
So…yes; with this project, I admit to being yet another self-dissecting 20-something. But I was programmed this way, and I have discovered a lot of important things as a result. This is about being honest with myself, regardless of all outside influences. This isn’t for you or for them, this is for me. It’s a time capsule. How will I feel tomorrow? In a week? a month? A year? Only time will tell.

Monday, March 14, 2011

Day 14: No sense in avoiding the topic any longer

My height, that is.
In this corner...
weighing in at 135 lbs...
reaching 6'1'...
          It makes me who I am, which took me a long time to accept. For as long as I can remember, my height has been putting me in situations I don't want to be in, thrust into the limelight before I was ready to be. Let's face the facts: tall people get noticed, and this gets old very quickly when you're in that awkward stage - the kind where you feel as though you're swimming in something much too big. I dreaded back-to-school shopping with my mother because I knew I was in for a humiliating few hours. I would try on 17 pairs of jeans and not one would fit right. Shirts, pants, skirts, dresses... everything was either way too short, or way too wide. This was emotionally draining; As a pre-teen, I simply felt like I didn't belong in the world. If correct sizing didn't exist for me, where was my place?
          By middle school, my lanky stature had quickly earned the nickname Twiggy, which further convinced me that this was the only distinguishable quality I possessed. My height was making me uncomfortable in all sorts of situations. Group photos, for example, always went pretty much the same. "Alright, guys in the back... Molly, you too. Get back there."  I didn't want to be in back with the boys, I wanted to be with my friends just like any other 7th grader who falls into that step of conformity. Continuing into high school, most of my peers caught up to my height for the most part, making the photo-op issue less prominent. But I had a new reason to resent my height by this time: It was all anyone could see when I was introduced to them. When meeting someone for the first time, I, just like anyone else, would expect a "Nice to meet you. My name is ______, what's yours?" Not for this giantess. Without fail, I would get the widened eyes and a glazed "Whoa, you're really tall" from my new acquaintances. Yes, yes I am. Would you like me to point out something obvious about your physical appearance as well? How about the color of your hair? Or the prominence of freckles on your face? It's just not polite, and I'm not exactly sure how anyone might think otherwise.
          There is a happy ending to this story. My height and I have been getting along swimmingly for a few years now. I don't even mind that I tower over my older sisters and parents (Raising The Bar?). My height allows me to see concerts from a perfect view, avoid wasting time with step stools, and quite possibly, just enough to distinguish from being another face in the crowd. I recently considered it would be nice to be an inch or two taller. I would bet exorbitant sums of money that this is the absolute last thing I would have wanted as a lanky and awkward 12-year-old, but there it is. I'm already up here, so what's wrong with making it just a tad more distinctive? Sure, some people still refer to me as "that one tall girl", but it resonates with positive feelings for the first time in my life. 
Tall, and glad. 
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3 comments:

  1. AnonymousMarch 14, 2011 at 4:51 PM

    loveloveloveeee

    ReplyDelete
  2. KateMarch 14, 2011 at 6:03 PM

    Another great post and pic, Moll :)

    ReplyDelete
  3. AnonymousMarch 14, 2011 at 7:00 PM

    you know whats funny about this post...our friendship started cause of your height...though now I realize I never did think about your feelings on it sorry. But now look no tall jokes are even cracked ever...plus short jokes are the new "thing" good post molly way to show your above it.

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