Shorty

Author and actress Anna-Leena Härkönen analyses the ups and downs of being just 153.5 cm. tall

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By Anna-Leena Härkönen
     
      Yes, it is a source of amusement.
      Already at school I was the target of laughter. Something isn’t quite finished with you.
      As I was seen as a clown anyway, I started acting like one. I would babble on, saying ridiculous things, and dancing silly dances.
      I would crawl inside suitcases, and I would slug the tallest boys in class in the gut.
      Considering my future choice of profession, it was quite a sensible decision, considering that writing and acting primarily involve humiliating one’s self.
     
In the company of a short woman, anyone can become invincible.
      Little women are carried, patted, and touched more readily than others. This naturally has its advantages, as long as the contact is friendly.
      Then there are men who cannot resist grabbing the bottom, because they know that I can’t do much about it.
     
My life is currently easier than it was about ten years ago when clothing sizes started at 36.
      Clothes are now available at regular stores, not only specialty shops, in sizes as small as 32. My official size is 30. My shoe size is 33.5, so I still have to buy my shoes from specialty shops.
      Once in Italy I found a divine shop selling small shoes. I sat on a velvet bench with a sense of reverence, as if I had been in a temple.
      A person with normal feet cannot understand how amazing it is to sit in front of rows of shoes that have a snug fit!
      On the other hand, there’s a feeling of pride - at the age of 44 - at being able to slip into the jeans of my ten-year-old son.
     
When I was pregnant, I was afraid that I would only be able to give birth to midgets.
      And indeed, it turned out that my son was one of the shortest in his class. He got the nickname Miniskidi (“Mini Kid”).
      It’s a good thing that his father is taller than most, so he still has the possibility to grow up to be of normal size.
     
For some reason I have always liked tall men. And over the years they have been getting taller all the time. The record is my present husband, who is 193 cm. tall.
      When my husband and I walk on the street holding hands, people sneer at us.
      I have learned to walk with heels as high as ten centimetres, and I’m still short.
     
If the anger of a woman is easily shrugged off, then the anger of a short woman is actually seen as a joke. What’s that mouse squeaking about?
      My ex rode a motorcycle and got me a bright red helmet.
      Once we got into an argument as we were waiting for the light to change.
      I leapt off the bike and marched to the sidewalk, still wearing my helmet.
      He drove the bike to the side of the road and was bent double with laughter.
      “What is it?” I asked.
      “Sorry that I’m laughing, but you look just like one of those pins you stick into a map!”
     
I don’t have the nerve to dance with anyone - certainly no dances with a dramatic flair.
      The morning after a party my neck is sore, and not just my head, because I have had to look up at people I’ve been talking to for hours.
      In supermarkets I have to ask other customers for help because I can’t reach a bottle of ketchup from the back of a shelf, even if I’m standing on a case of beer.
      Kitchen cupboards are always too high up.
      I have once had my own midget kitchen custom-made for myself. It was fantastic. My shoulders didn’t get sore like they usually did when I kneaded dough. I just feel sorry for the next owner of the kitchen, who appeared to be of normal size.
     
When I try to reach a scarf hanging on a hat rack, all the damn scarves fall down on me.
      And the last weeks of my pregnancy were pure hell.
      The baby stretched my abdomen so that I suffered from pain night and day. Another person simply will not fit inside a small woman.
      As a small woman I was spared a traditional birth, but the caesarian was not without its complications.
      When they started to operate, I felt the incision in my stomach. Behind the mask there was no point in shouting, so I waved. “Something’s wrong”, the child’s father said to the other side of the curtain. “What is it?” the doctor asked.
      "I felt the cut."
      “Oh dear. You shouldn’t be able to feel it at all. We probably didn’t give you enough anaesthetic because you’re so small. Good that you mentioned it.”
      I thought so, too.
     
I don’t actually feel that I am particularly short. This is the size that people should be! I’m normal; it’s the others that are too big.
      No wonder that I feel so much at home in Thailand. They seem to be of the same strain as me.
      And what a joy it is to occasionally meet an adult who is shorter than me!
      Once I was queueing at the ticket window at a railway station, and in front of me was a lady who was at least five cm. shorter than me.
      I had such a strong urge to tap her on the shoulder and ask “How’s it going, Shorty?”
     
I wouldn’t change places with anyone - not any more. A person gets used to special treatment.
      Once I went for a pedicure, and the cosmetologist said at the till: “I simply don’t have the nerve to charge the full price for such small feet.”
      Fine with me, dear.
      I easily start taking special privileges onto myself.
      “Could you let me keep this dress?” I might ask the wardrobe person of a TV-series. “I mean, it won’t fit anyone else anyway, will it?. And could I also have these shoes?”
      “Your wife takes advantage of her size”, my husband’s friend once said to him.
      “She knows that you can shout almost anything upstairs from downstairs without being held to account for it.”
      I admit it. Freely.
      And I plan to keep it up.
     
     
Helsingin Sanomat / First published in print 22.2010


Links:
  Anna-Leena Härkönen (Wikipedia)

Helsingin Sanomat