I Am Shrinking.

Short, shorter, shortest.

It dawned on me the other day,  as my kids were laughing hysterically at the new pencil stroke  marking their ever diminishing mother, that my reducing height is a massive metaphorical joke on my career.

Once,  I  had 5′ 4″ with in my grasp. If I stretched my spine and backcombed my hair, I could pass for 5′ 5″.   My ambition wasn’t huge, I didn’t want fame and fortune, I just wanted to be a jobbing actress.  I  wanted to be 5′ 4″ and to pay the bills by working in the profession I loved.

20 + years  on,  a little tweak of career plans (writing for acting) and where am I?

5′ 2 1/2″  and shrinking.

So, why am  I still  reaching for 5′ 4″ ? Why, despite all the evidence to the contrary, do I still think I can be taller?

Do you see where I’m coming from here?  One day I fully expect to be a puddle of skin with hair, still believing I don’t need the Petite range and that I might, one day, sell a book.

Maybe I should  buy some platform shoes.  What would that metaphor mean?!

3 Comments Add yours

  1. My Mum found out she was shrinking in exactly the same way. She was 4’11 and is now 4’8″. Apparently it is hereditary.

    My advice is no matter what your height – reach for the stars.

  2. A big personality counts rather than stature and I would say that you probably have the former. I’ve lost half an inch as my spine is bent…but it’s OK, I am still here and like you wanting that book, ‘out there’.

    And anyway height doesn’t matter when you’re lying down.

  3. weight says:

    i see what you did there

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