*By Tallulah T. Highhorse

*

April 16, 2025

Dear Short Men of the World,

It is with a heavy heart and an elevated vantage point that I, on behalf of all women (and probably society itself), beseech you to cease your futile quest for romantic companionship. Let’s be real: your lack of altitude is an affront to the natural order of desirability, and your insistence on pursuing love is, frankly, an inconvenience to us all. This is not personal—it’s just geometry. Allow me to explain why you must abandon your amorous ambitions and retreat to the lowlands of solitude.

First, let’s address the elephant in the room (or rather, the mouse under the table): you’re short. Science, or at least the highly scientific polls conducted on dating apps, has decreed that women overwhelmingly prefer men who can reach the top shelf without a stepstool. Tall men, with their lofty foreheads and ability to dunk imaginary basketballs, are the gold standard of desirability. They exude confidence, command attention, and can literally sweep us off our feet without straining their backs. You, dear short kings, simply cannot compete with this towering charisma. Why bother trying?

Second, your presence in the dating pool is clogging up the system. Every time you swipe right or muster the audacity to approach a woman at a bar, you’re taking up valuable space that could be occupied by a statuesque Adonis who doesn’t need to hem his pants. Imagine the efficiency of a world where only men over 6 feet dared to flirt! Dating apps would run smoother, bar conversations would be less awkward, and women could finally stop pretending they “don’t care about height” to spare your feelings. It’s a win-win—except for you, but let’s not dwell on that.

Now, I know what you’re thinking: “But what about personality? Confidence? Kindness?” Oh, sweet, compact optimists, those traits are merely garnish on the main course of height. A charming 5’6” man is like a perfectly seasoned side salad—nice, but nobody’s raving about it when there’s a 6’2” steak on the menu. Your wit and warmth are cute, but they’re no match for the primal allure of a man who can see over a crowd at a concert. It’s not your fault; it’s just evolution. Or vibes. Or something.

And let’s talk about practicality. Tall men can carry more groceries, intimidate potential muggers, and make better human umbrellas in the rain. You, on the other hand, are a logistical nightmare. Slow-dancing with you risks neck strain for us. Group photos are a nightmare—someone’s always crouching or you’re hidden behind a taller friend. And don’t get me started on the wardrobe challenges; those “petite” men’s jeans are just a cruel reminder of your diminished stature. Why subject yourself—and us—to such daily indignities?

So, short men, I implore you: hang up your dating profiles and embrace a life of quiet resignation. Take up hobbies that don’t involve women, like collecting rare coins or mastering the art of artisanal sourdough. Leave the romance to the giants among us and find solace in knowing you’re no longer burdening womankind with your unwanted advances. It’s not giving up—it’s gallantly stepping aside for the greater good.

In closing, let us envision a world where height reigns supreme, where every date is a skyscraper of passion, and where short men know their place (ideally, far from the dance floor). Do it for love. Do it for society. Do it because, deep down, you know you’ll never be as desirable as a man who can change a lightbulb without a ladder.

With lofty regards,

Tallulah T. Highhorse

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5711983&forum_id=2).#48855261)