My name is Tasha, I'm 5ft and to say that being small is (often) the bane of my life would be an understatement.
Of course, general petiteness does come with its advantages, some of which include: being able to squeeze into kid's clothes and shoes, fitting into the tiniest of areas on a crammed tube train and getting awesome stuff in the sales because it fits nobody else.
But, at the ripe old age of 23, I'm starting to believe that the pros are definitely outweighed by the cons. Here are a handful of 'em:
Londoner? Or perhaps you're also lucky enough to live in a city with a hot, sweaty public transport system?
In either case, you'll be accustomed to the horrific moment that hits (usually in summer) when you're faced - quite literally - with hundreds of sweaty pits.
As everyone reaches for those overhead poles, you (the armpit height delight) end up with a nose - and face - full of underarm. Winner.
Supermarket dashes are nightmare enough. But when you're 5ft-and-a-fag-paper, everything is suddenly much, much worse.
Have you ever had to ask the visual merchandiser in Aldi if you can borrow their ladders so you can reach the milk?
It's embarrassing. In fact I'm 100% sure that this is the sole reason why online shopping was invented.
If I had a pound for every time someone said I was "cute", I'd be an actual gazillionaire.
Yes, admittedly, sometimes cute is a good thing. But other times it's really not.
Like when the hot bartender who - let's face it, probably could be a model - says you're cute (SCORE) while looking at you in probably the same way as he does his five-year-old niece.
Sorry but what part of my shoulder looks like an inanimate armrest?
Oh wait, that's right, none of it.
"You're so cute when you're angry."
Me: "GET OUT!"
Unless they are vertically challenged themselves, most people assume that because you're small, you're probably about 12.
Whether you're buying paracetamol (yes really), alcohol, cigarettes, nightclub entry or a bloody lottery ticket, the fact of the matter is that you might as well wear ID around your neck like a dog tag.
Ever had a photo with your friends where you're just some floating onion head and the rest of them have ACTUAL bodies? I have.
All. The. Time.
One of the (many) annoyances of having short legs is the fact you can't actually put your feet on the floor when sat on a chair. And unless you get one of those ergonomic (read: baby) steps, your back and shoulders are well and truly doomed.
And not in a good way either.
Unless you actively enjoy looking up people's noses.
Midge, hobbit, little 'un, titch, the borrower, shortcake...
All endearing I'm sure, but equally annoying.
"Stand up Tash, oh wait, you are."
Nice one, mate. Nice one.
Got more pet peeves? Tweet me with your #ShortGirlProblems.