For the second time in as many months I’ve been contacted by a Los Angeles production company about taking part in a reality TV show about tall people. Specifically, if the first email I received is still true, about unusually tall women in love with average-height men. The second email, which arrived today, was more vague, mentioning that it’s a TV show looking for tall women.
The emails have been both respectful and polite, merely inquiries about my interest in such a thing. However, this does not stop my stomach from filling with dread the moment I start reading. The idea of exposing myself and my large, tall, unruly body to the reality-TV watching public makes me want to vomit.
Oftentimes, leaving the house is bad enough. As a very large, very tall woman it is rare when I can go out in public without the innocent or the ignorant making a comment on my size. Decades of practice has left me with an apologetic, sorry for existing near your delicate sensibilities face that is always on point. This is why I love being a regular at places and loathe breaking in new places. People are really bad at hiding their surprise when they first lay eyes on me. However, repetition breeds familiarity and boy do I love that.
The mere fact that I have mentioned being 6’5″ on this website means I have received hundreds and hundreds of emails from men who have a tall-woman fetish. I get more emails from men wanting to fuck a tall woman than I do from people who think I am Paul Westerberg. You can see a small sampling of what these emails are like if you read the comments on a post I wrote in 2007 about being single and freakishly tall.
Can you imagine that being exacerbated by about a bajillion percent? I can and it gives me the shivers of horror. And that’s just from people who may be appreciative of my body. I won’t even let myself think of what would be said by the people repulsed by my size.
So yeah, the very idea of letting thousands of reality-TV watchers have free rein to comment on my appearance makes me anxious, as though this is something that can happen without my say so.
I have no desire to ever be on TV. Not ever. Ever. Ever. Ever. Ever. Ever. Ever. Sadly, this TV-appearance phobia will probably prevent me from marrying Prince Harry. Alas!
Most of the time I just really hope to go unnoticed. I long to be the overlooked, the invisible, because I rarely get to experience it. Going on TV would be the exact opposite of going unnoticed. Yuck.