I’m 32 and the size of an eight-year-old, strangers stare at my 6ft tall hubby when he’s with me but we don’t care
FINDING love is tricky for anyone, but for Francesca Papagno it seemed all the more daunting.
At just 4ft 1in, Francesca, 32, is the average height of an eight-year-old and believed that her height would be a constant obstacle in her quest to find her soulmate.
Little did she know that her knight in shining armour would come in the form of a bloke a whole 2ft taller than her.
Here Francesca tells Fabulous why trolls and strangers’ stares won’t dampen her happily ever after…
WAKING from the general anaesthetic, I saw my partner Paul with our newborn son, swaddled in a blanket.
As he placed the baby in my arms and kissed me, I felt total happiness.
There was a time when I believed I’d never find a soulmate who’d be able to see past my height.
And I’d been told all my life that my body would never be able to safely carry a baby, even if I could manage to get pregnant.
Now, though, I had a man who adored me, we had a child together and I knew dreams really could come true.
My parents and brothers are all of “normal” height, and as a baby there was no indication I was any different.
But after experiencing problems with my hips, tests at two years old revealed I had a rare condition called acromicric dysplasia, which affects the growth and development of bones, and stunts growth.
It differs from achondroplasia, also known as dwarfism, because people with that have average-sized torsos and shorter limbs, whereas I’m completely in proportion, albeit only 4ft 1in.
It wasn’t until I approached my teens that my height began to impact my sense of identity.
Although I was the smallest in the class, it wasn’t really obvious, but after moving to secondary school in 2001, everyone else had their growth spurt, but I didn’t.
I also experienced problems with my joints – my knees would dislocate and my legs got sore and tired. There wasn’t much doctors could do, but I spent time in Great Ormond Street Hospital being monitored and studied, as my condition is so rare.
My clothes always had to be adjusted, which was a constant reminder that I wasn’t the same as everyone else.
Thankfully, I had good friends and wasn’t bullied at school, but every time I left the house, I knew I’d be stared at or laughed at by strangers.
I remember being in a shop and standing on tiptoes trying to reach something, when I noticed a man sniggering at me. I wanted the ground to swallow me up.
Outwardly, I was happy, outgoing and a natural performer, but inside I struggled with the knowledge that I was a source of curiosity and mockery.
My parents were protective, but would tell me to never allow my height or other people’s prejudices to hold me back.
I went to the University of Chichester in 2009 to study music, and became a jobbing actor after graduating. I landed minor roles in films including Snow White And The Huntsman with Chris Hemsworth, and joined the Reduced Height Theatre Company, set up by Hollywood actor Warwick Davis.
I had a fulfilling career and a busy social life, but something was always missing – love.
Through my work, I did meet some men who were my height, but I just wasn’t attracted to them and knew I wasn’t going to end up with another little person.
By the age of 24, I’d never had a boyfriend and only a few drunken kisses.
I was wary of men, I worried I was just a joke to them, a bit of banter with their mates to see if they could “pull” me, or worse, that they had a fetish for little people.
I struggled to believe any man would genuinely be interested in me, and so I kept a barrier up.
The reality was that most guys didn’t want to be with someone my height. I was always the wing woman for my regular height friends on nights out, waiting while they got chatted up, or their shoulder to cry on after a break-up.
Then, on a night out in October 2014, I was introduced to a friend of a friend called Paul, now 35, who works in telecoms.
At 6ft 1in, he towered over me, but we got on so well that it didn’t matter. He was handsome, with a cheeky sense of humour, and we spent the evening laughing and chatting.
We had a brief kiss, but I never imagined anything more would happen. Someone like him wouldn’t really be into someone like me, I thought.
We chatted online for a few weeks before he asked me out for a drink. I didn’t know if he meant as a date or friends, but I said yes, and by the end of that evening I knew there was something special between us.
When we went out together, we’d get stared at, and while I was used to it, Paul struggled. He was protective of me and I had to reassure him it was water off a duck’s back.
We moved in together the following April, and in January 2016 I discovered I was pregnant.
Although I had periods, I’d been told by doctors for years that they were unsure if my fertility would be affected by my condition.
They’d also been very clear that, even if I could conceive, my body was so small that I probably wouldn’t be able to successfully carry a pregnancy.
I’d been open with Paul from the start, both of us agreeing we’d consider adoption in the future, so we both felt thrilled and terrified by the pregnancy.
I was closely monitored throughout, with many scans to ensure the baby was OK and that my body was coping, as doctors were concerned about the impact on my organs and respiratory system.
They wanted me to deliver at 28 weeks, as a precaution, but I still felt well by then and didn’t want the baby to be born so prematurely, so they agreed I could carry on. I was enormous – the circumference of my bump was more than my height, and I just couldn’t wait to meet my baby.
There was a chance our child could have inherited acromicric dysplasia from me, but that didn’t matter to us – we knew we would love and cherish them regardless.
In September 2016, when I was 37 weeks pregnant, Marco was born by C-section, weighing 6lb 9oz. I had a general anaesthetic, because doctors were worried about giving me an epidural due to my short spine. Waking up to learn I had a son was incredible.
I struggled to believe any man would genuinely be interested in me
Francesca Papagno
In December 2019, Paul and I married at a local registry office, with Marco – who didn’t inherit my condition – there, followed by a meal with family and friends.
Today, we’re a very happy family of three. Marco, now six, is becoming more aware that I’m different from other mums and, like Paul, he’s protective of me.
He gets cross when people stare or when I get offered a kids’ menu in a restaurant. I’m teaching him the importance of empathy and acceptance, and that I’m content in my own skin, so he doesn’t need to worry.
In February this year, I took to the catwalk at London Fashion Week for a label called Chamiah Dewey Fashion, which is for people under 4ft 11in. It was a brilliant experience and Paul and Marco were really proud of me.
Every day, I feel lucky. Paul is my first and only love.
He’s the only man I’ve ever been in a relationship with, which is unusual these days, and just makes what we have extra-special. Marco is the miracle child I thought I’d never have. Falling in love and becoming a mother has taught me that you should never give up on your dreams. They might just come true.
Follow @Chamiahdeweyfashion and @Frankiepapagno on Instagram.
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