I'm 5'8". She's 5'10". When she wears heels, she's easily 6'1". And for the first time in my life, I don't give a shit.

That probably doesn't sound revolutionary to most people. But if you've ever been a shorter bloke who's into taller women, you'll know exactly what I mean.

The Pattern I Couldn't Break

Before I met Emma, I had this rule. Never swipe right on anyone over 5'7". Not because I wasn't attracted to taller women - I was. Massively. But because I'd learned the hard way that it never worked out.

There was this girl in uni. Laura. She was about 5'9", played netball, had this confidence that just drew everyone to her. We got chatting at a house party, really hit it off. She gave me her number. I thought I was in.

We went on one date. One. She showed up in flats - which I clocked immediately and appreciated - and we had a decent time. Good conversation, few laughs, seemed promising. At the end of the night, she went in for a hug. I went in for a kiss. The angles were all wrong. It was awkward as hell.

She texted me the next day saying she "didn't feel a spark." I knew what that meant. I'd known what it meant since I was 15 and got rejected by the first girl I ever asked out, who told her mates I was "cute but too short."

So yeah. 5'7" maximum became my rule. Keep things simple. Stay in my lane.

Emma

I matched with Emma on Hinge about seven months ago. Her profile said 5'10" right there in her bio. I should've swiped left. Stuck to my rule. Saved us both the time.

But her profile was just... her. Funny, sarcastic, liked the same films I did, had this photo of her absolutely battering someone at crazy golf. I swiped right before I could talk myself out of it.

When she messaged first, I nearly unmatched. Because I knew how this would go. We'd chat, get on well, arrange to meet, and then she'd see me in person and do that thing people do when they're trying not to look disappointed.

But we kept talking. And she was genuinely sound. After a week, she suggested meeting for drinks. I said yes, obviously, but spent the next three days having an internal crisis about it.

I thought about cancelling probably fifteen times. Made up excuses in my head. Work emergency, family thing, suddenly developed the plague. Anything to avoid the inevitable.

The Night Before

The evening before our date, I did something I never thought I'd do. I googled "height insoles UK" at about 11pm.

I'd seen ads for them before. Always thought they were a bit sad, if I'm honest. Like wearing a toupee or getting hair plugs. Just accept what you've got, mate. Don't be that desperate.

But sitting there, thinking about meeting Emma and watching her face fall when she realised I was shorter than she'd imagined, I just thought: why not? What have I actually got to lose?

I found Inchmaxxing. Read through the site. What got me was how un-bullshit it all was. No false promises, no "add 6 inches instantly" nonsense. Just: here's what they are, here's what they do, here's how they work.

I ordered the Summit ones. Paid for next-day delivery even though it cost an extra tenner. Figured if I was doing this, I was doing it properly.

The Date

They arrived at 10am. Date was at 7pm. I had nine hours to talk myself out of backing out.

I put them in my trainers at about 6pm. Stood in front of my mirror. And I'll be honest - I felt like a knob. Like I was trying too hard. Like this was exactly the kind of thing someone who's given up on themselves would do.

But I left the house anyway.

I got to the bar first. Ordered a beer. Tried to look casual. Then Emma walked in and my brain just went: oh fuck.

She was tall. Obviously I knew she was tall, but knowing it and seeing it are different things. She was wearing ankle boots with a slight heel. She had to be 6 foot, easy.

She spotted me, smiled, walked over. And when we hugged hello, I was only slightly shorter than her. Just slightly.

I waited for her to notice. To look down at my feet. To do the mental maths and realise something was off.

She didn't. We just... started talking. About her day, about my day, about the bar's truly terrible playlist. Normal date stuff.

Three hours later, we were still there. She suggested getting food. We walked to this Vietnamese place round the corner. At one point, we were waiting to cross the road and she linked her arm through mine. Just casually. Like it was the most natural thing in the world.

I'd never had that before. A taller girl being that comfortable with me.

Seven Months Later

We've been together ever since. Properly together - met each other's mates and families, staying over at each other's places, talking about moving in together type of together.

She knows about the insoles. I told her after about three months. We were at hers, I was taking my trainers off, and she saw them. Just asked, "What are those?"

I could've lied. Said they were orthotic insoles for my back or something. But I just told her the truth. Said I'd bought them before our first date because I was nervous about the height difference.

You know what she said? "Oh. Fair enough."

That was it. No big reaction. No "why didn't you tell me?" or "do you still need them?" Just... fair enough.

Later that night, she said something that's stuck with me. She said she wears makeup every day, spends forty quid a month on her nails, dyes her hair, uses fake tan. "We all do things to feel more like ourselves," she said. "Yours just happens to be those."

What Changed

I still wear them most of the time. Not every day - sometimes I just wear normal insoles. But when we go out, when I know she'll be in heels, yeah, I wear them.

Not because I think she'll leave me if I don't. Not because I'm still insecure about the height thing. But because it just makes everything easier.

When we're out with her mates - who are all pretty tall - I'm not the short boyfriend. I'm just her boyfriend. When we're taking photos, I don't have to think about angles or positioning. We just stand next to each other like normal couples do.

And that's the thing nobody tells you about these. They don't make you taller. Not really. They just make you stop thinking about being shorter.

Before Emma, I spent so much mental energy on my height. Swiping left on girls I fancied. Avoiding situations where I'd be around tall people. Standing a certain way in photos. It was exhausting.

Now I just... don't think about it. And that's freed up so much space in my head for everything else.

For Anyone on the Fence

If you're reading this and you're thinking about trying them, here's what I'd say: they're not going to solve everything. They're not going to suddenly make you confident or successful or whatever.

But if you're avoiding things because of your height - dates, job interviews, social situations - then maybe they'll help you stop avoiding things. And that's where the real change happens.

I never would've messaged Emma back if I'd known I couldn't do something about the height difference. I would've stuck to my 5'7" rule and missed out on the best relationship I've ever had.

These didn't give me confidence. They just removed one barrier that was stopping me from putting myself out there. And sometimes that's all you need.

My girlfriend is 5'10" and I've never felt better. Not because I'm secretly taller than her now. But because I stopped letting height be the reason I didn't try.