I'm 31, work in sales, and I'm 5'6". For the last eight years, I've watched taller, less experienced blokes get promoted while I stayed exactly where I was.

Last month, I got promoted to Senior Account Manager. My boss said I'd "really stepped up" in the last few months. He has no idea how literally true that is.

The Pattern I Couldn't Ignore

I'm good at my job. Properly good. My numbers are consistently in the top three on the team. I close deals other people can't close. I've brought in more revenue than half the senior team combined.

But every time a promotion came up, it went to someone else. And I started noticing a pattern.

James - 6'2", decent at his job, nothing special - got made Senior Account Manager after 18 months. Tom - about 6 foot, nice enough lad but loses deals regularly - got the same promotion six months later. Even fucking Ben, who's been here less time than me and whose close rate is average at best, got bumped up before I did.

What did they all have in common? They were all tall. Properly tall.

I know how that sounds. Like I'm making excuses. Like I'm bitter and looking for someone to blame. But when you've been in the same role for five years despite bringing in the numbers, you start looking for patterns.

The Team Photo

We had this company away day about six months ago. One of those corporate bonding things where they make you do trust exercises and pretend you enjoy spending a Saturday with your colleagues.

They took a team photo at the end. All of us lined up outside the hotel. And when I saw it posted on LinkedIn the next day, I couldn't stop staring at it.

There I was, front row, surrounded by people who'd been promoted past me. And the difference was so obvious it was almost funny. They looked like leaders. Confident, commanding, authoritative. I looked like someone's kid brother who'd wandered into the photo by mistake.

My girlfriend saw me looking at it. Asked what was wrong. I couldn't even explain it to her. How do you say "I think I'm not getting promoted because I'm short" without sounding completely paranoid?

But I couldn't shake it. That photo just confirmed something I'd been feeling for years: people don't take me as seriously because of my height.

The Decision

I had my annual performance review coming up. I knew my numbers were good. I knew I deserved a promotion. But I also knew that if I walked into that meeting the same way I'd walked into every other one, I'd walk out with a pat on the back and nothing else.

So I started looking at options. Not to change my performance - that was already there. But to change how I was perceived.

I found Inchmaxxing on a Reddit thread, of all places. Someone had posted asking about height insoles for professional settings, and about fifteen blokes had recommended them. The reviews were mental - people talking about how it had changed their presence in meetings, how they felt more confident presenting, how colleagues treated them differently.

I ordered the Summit size. Figured if I was doing this, I might as well go for it. They arrived two days before my review.

The Review

I wore them in my dress shoes. Added about three inches. Took me about twenty minutes to get used to walking in them properly, but once I did, they were fine. Not comfortable exactly, but not uncomfortable either.

I got to the office early that day. Caught my reflection in the lift on the way up. And for the first time in years, I looked like I belonged in the senior team photo.

The review was with my boss and the Head of Sales. Usually in these meetings, I'd sit slightly hunched, make myself smaller, not want to seem too pushy about wanting a promotion. Didn't want to come across as entitled or difficult.

This time, I sat up straight. Made eye contact. When they asked about my goals, I didn't hedge or soften it - I said I wanted the Senior Account Manager role and explained exactly why I deserved it.

My boss actually leaned back in his chair at one point. Like he was seeing me differently. He said something about my "executive presence" improving. Asked if I'd been working with a coach or something.

I wanted to laugh. Yeah mate, Coach Inchmaxxing.

They didn't offer me the promotion in that meeting. But they said they'd "seriously consider it" for the next round. Which was further than I'd ever gotten before.

Three Weeks Later

I got called into another meeting. My boss and the MD this time. They offered me the Senior Account Manager role. More money, bigger accounts, seat at the leadership table.

I said yes, obviously. Tried to play it cool. Thanked them professionally.

But inside, I was doing the mental maths. How much of this was my performance? How much was the insoles? Would I have gotten it anyway, or did those three extra inches actually make the difference?

Honestly? I think it was both. My numbers earned me the opportunity. But the insoles helped me show up to that opportunity differently. More confident. More commanding. More like someone who already belonged in that role.

Two Months In

I wear them to every client meeting now. Every presentation. Every leadership meeting. They've just become part of my work uniform - suit, tie, dress shoes, insoles.

Nobody's noticed. Or if they have, they haven't said anything. But people treat me differently now.

Colleagues ask my opinion in meetings. Clients address questions to me first, even when there are more senior people in the room. The MD introduced me to a major client last week as "one of our rising stars."

Would that have happened without the insoles? Maybe. Maybe my promotion would've come eventually anyway.

But I spent five years waiting for "eventually." And in the end, what got me there wasn't just working harder or being better at my job. It was showing up differently to the opportunities I'd already earned.

The Uncomfortable Truth

Here's the bit that's hard to admit: the insoles worked because people are shallow. They saw three extra inches and suddenly I had "executive presence." My performance didn't change. My skills didn't change. My height changed, and that changed how people perceived everything else.

That should make me angry. It should make me want to prove that height doesn't matter, that competence is what counts.

But I'm 31 years old and I've spent eight years being competent in a body that people didn't take seriously. And I'm tired of fighting that fight.

So yeah, I wear height insoles to work. And yeah, it probably contributed to me getting promoted. And no, I don't feel guilty about it.

For Anyone In the Same Boat

If you're stuck in your career and you can't figure out why, despite doing everything right - consider this: maybe it's not about working harder. Maybe it's about removing the barriers that stop people from seeing the work you're already doing.

I'm not saying insoles will get you promoted. But they might get you taken seriously enough that your actual performance can speak for itself.

Because that's the thing - I still had to have the numbers. I still had to be good at my job. The insoles just made sure people actually noticed.

Would I recommend them? If you're in the same position I was - good at your job, consistently overlooked, can't figure out why - then yeah. Try them. See if it changes how people perceive you.

It's not about being taller. It's about removing one more reason for people to underestimate you.

And sometimes, that's all you need.