So this post has been rattling around in my head for sometime. Perhaps it is the fact that Martin Luther King had a dream and so did I or maybe it’s because my third child just turned 16 and I am starting to assess the last 24 years of my married life. I’m not sure what sparked it, but here it is. A post about life with a shorter husband. Even typing that sentence sounds silly to me today, but there was a day when it nearly ended our relationship. I think about what I would have missed out on if it did, and I could easily be left sobbing in a corner for days.

Why? You may ask, did it ever matter. The fact is, I’m not sure. I simply know that it did. Not to me too often – okay maybe occasionally when I want to feel especially protected or on a dance floor with several looking, but in the course of a life how often is that? However, my mother, and most especially my grandmother found it a big deal. For some reason a man standing 4 inches shorter than me, was surely going to change our lives together. “Your children will be short, and if they are boys, that isn’t good,” my grandmother would mutter under her breath. “You’ll always question yourself when you fight and wonder if it would be different with a taller man,” my mother and the occasional friend would add. “What if two years into our marriage you end up in a wheelchair, and I am taller,” he would counter. Fair question…

Society had a problem too. You can see it in our wedding and prom pictures where I was asked to sit down, or in the case of prom pictures , “bend my knees a bit.” I did it without a second thought as it was what was expected, but those pictures are not a true representation of who we were and what I was feeling.

In today’s world, where mixed and gay marriages are practically the norm, the societal joke seen so frequently in the 70;s of her being taller seems silly, but yet it nearly defined my life. I almost – almost – walked away.

And the things I would have missed are too long to spell out. Is he perfect? Um, nope!! Is any man? Again, no and neither am I.

Twenty-four years and four children later, here is what I know for sure. Height doesn’t matter AT ALL – not even a teeny tiny bit – no pun intended – except perhaps when we want to slow dance in public, but that’s my demon. My main man – short or not – makes me laugh, would lay his life down for me or any of our children, believes in my dreams, is my best friend and offers me more insight into what really matters than anyone else I’ve encountered – well – ever. Okay, maybe my BFF, but she and he are twins separated at birth so I’m  not sure that counts.

For  30 years, he has gotten up to go to work so that my children and I could live a life that we are all proud of . I was fortunate enough to stay home for nearly 20 years to raise my children because of his efforts. He cooks, he cleans, he loves his children, he has allowed me to follow my dreams and supported me every step of the way. He puts food on the table (literally, he’s the house cook)  and makes me smile every day. Really, how is it possible that I could have walked away from all of that for 4 lousy inches?

What is it about people that forces us to see what’s different? At the end of the day, we are all human beings doing our best to plow through life. We all have strengths and weaknesses and we all have our ups and downs. But as husbands go – I have a dang good one from head to toe – all of him belongs to me and my family. I would have it no other way. As the years passed my mom and grandmother fell equally in love, and learned a thing or two about the power of the parental/grand-parental influence. And so today, as we all celebrate Martin Luther King Day, I dare you to step outside of what you may be judging and ask yourself what you could be missing. Or what/who your children are in love with that you are judging. Is it, perhaps, time to all just get along?

As for me, I thank God I had the strength within myself to avoid societal, parental and grand parental pressure about something as silly as height and land in this fabulous life. I wish for you all the same. And that’s the long and the short of it.

P.S. I have three sons – they range in height from 5 foot 9 inches tall to 6 foot 3. My daughter is a mere 5 foot 2 and that is just fine with all of us!