Being a petite woman

We are almost halfway to the end of the first month of 2020, and just three days ago, I finally moved back to the United Kingdom. It was not my first time moving to another country, but it was my first time moving by myself without any help. I admit my life has been a bit of a crazy ride with unexpected twists, but until now, I have no complaints. Until three days ago, I was living in the Czech Republic, a country that I never thought I will ever live in. After three years, I decided to expand my wings and move again, hopefully for the better.

But today, I’m not going to discuss my life path, purpose, and decisions. Today I’m going to mock myself for being a petite (short) woman. Firstly, I have to say that in the last few years, I tried to educate myself in terms of feminism and gender roles. As I tried to understand and learn more about gender, I started calling myself a feminist, and I grew to become a very independent person that rarely relies on anyone. Which sometimes I must admit is a bit of a wrong attitude. Because at the end of the day, we are all humans, and even when you go back in time, humans function the best when they are in groups rather than alone.

Nevertheless, three days ago, I decided to go on a solo quest to ship my stuff of thirty kilos back to my home country. (I am one of those who accumulate way too much stuff). Then take a taxi to the bus station with luggage that weighted at least fifty kilos. My flight was from Prague, so I had to get there. At Prague, I had to change a bus from the main station to the airport. Finally, I would arrive at Luton airport, take a taxi to the hotel, and take my luggage to my room at a hotel that didn’t have an elevator! If this quest was at a video game, it would be a boss level.

So, as this was a boss level, I had to use my petite and womanly arts to request help from strangers. I was worried during the entire day whether I would manage to carry all my luggage throughout the journey. Therefore, my sparkly eyes, cute smile, and petite physique helped me attract several men who aided me on different occasions. Firstly, there was the taxi driver who not only helped me carry my stuff for shipment, he also helped me take them inside the post office. And at the post office, there was a sweet elderly man who held the door for me. Later, the other person who helped me was my friend who gave me a ride to the bus station and carried my bulky suitcase of thirty kilos. After a sad but sweet farewell with my friend, I was finally on my way to Prague.  

I was anxious about transferring to another bus in Prague because I could not carry all my three suitcases and backpack to the next bus stop. But thankfully, again, a guy saw me struggling and with one sweet smile that screamed, “Help me,” he assisted me by carrying my most massive suitcase. He even aided me on the bus to hold my suitcase as I could not do it by myself. As soon as I arrived at the airport and had my luggage checked in, I felt simultaneously relieved and tired. I felt as if I were ten years more. Nonetheless, I was finally able to relax and rest while waiting for the plane’s departure.

Finally, after long hours in taxis, buses, stations, airports, and planes, I arrived at Luton airport. And as if all my other worries and exhaustion were not enough, there was a queue of forty-five minutes at the immigration checkpoint. I was happy that the plane arrived twenty minutes earlier, but my happiness didn’t last long. After the not-even-two-minutes check finished, I hurried at the baggage claim zone to get my stuff (carried them with a trolley) and waited for a taxi. I honestly couldn’t handle them for another bus ride. Once the taxi driver said, “Just take a seat love, and I’ll handle your luggage,” I was ready to go to my hotel and have some beauty sleep. My arrival at the hotel was a bit of an adventure, though, since I was dropped off to the other side of the entrance, and I had a mini panic attack since it meant I had to leave some of my stuff alone and unattended until I’ll get inside the hotel. After the mini-adventure of running with a massive backpack on my back, I got to the reception to receive my keys and have my beauty sleep. Until I notice there is no elevator! Again, a short mini panic attack starts to elevate within me. But the receptionist was kind enough to carry my heavy suitcase. Thankfully, my room was on the first floor. Otherwise, we would have a severe problem.

After a long quest, I finally got into my room, had a quick shower, and fell in a deep sleep that lasted for twelve hours. That was one of the most exhausting experiences I had in airports.

With my petite physique carrying all that stuff, I was probably a funny sight, and maybe I looked quite pitiful to others. Nonetheless, I thank all the strangers out there who assisted me during this quest with my heavy luggage. I know it’s not something special after all, there is something that we call chivalry and humanity. Still, the truth is that none of them were obliged to give me a hand with my predicament, but they did, and I sincerely thank them. 

As a 5’2 woman, I often find myself in uncomfortable or rather tricky situations, and somehow I get the title of the baby or cute among my friends. I can’t say that I have any issues with that, quite the contrary, I take advantage of it. And well as a woman, I also have the advantage of not being criticized for my height, lack of strength, or asking for help. Which is sad because I know that men who might be short have it way much different than women. Anyway, if you see someone around you struggling with anything, don’t ever hesitate to help. After all, as I mentioned earlier, humans function better when they work together rather than alone.

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