The vast English vocabulary is incredibly resourceful when it comes to picking a word to describe something, or someone in this particular case. When someone takes a look at me and my just-under 5 foot stature, it’s an automatic response to call me “cute.”

Cute for being short? Or is it cute because I resemble a child-like appearance? Yes, I get it, I’m the size of a middle-schooler, but I am certainly not going through that awkward phase, boys and girls. I’m 21 years old, and I consider myself a young adult. Heck, I can order a margarita whenever I want, I have a job and go to college full-time, drive, and I pay my bills. You know what’s cute? PUPPIES.

Aw, won’t you look at that?

I, however, can be described in a variety of ways, without infantilizing my appearance. Now, I’m not trying to throw shade at those who have commented, “So cute!” on my Instagram pics because I do understand there isn’t bad intention or any sort of belittling behind it. I’m also not trying to say to call me hot and sexy either because it’s not just the physical connotation of the words that bothers me.

What I want is for people to take me seriously and not treat me like a child. Sure, there are some obvious perks to my youthfulness, but I hope that whenever I become a professional, I’m not referred to as “that cute doctor.” I want to be perceived as someone who doesn’t put up with a lack of respect, someone who is mature enough to make her own decisions and someone who knows what she wants.

But I do admit, there are instances where it is appropriate to call me cute (like when I use the dog filter on Snapchat). I’m not completely disowning the term. Instead, I just would rather be complimented on something besides my appearance...and my stature.

Compliment me on my intelligence, my emotional strength, my sense of humor, and my kindness. Compliment me for my other attributes that aren’t necessarily based on my appearance. Call me beautiful, but not based on my outer beauty.

As F. Scott Fitzgerald put it so eloquently, “She was beautiful, but not like those girls in the magazines. She was beautiful for the way she thought. She was beautiful, for the sparkle in her eyes when she talked about something she loved. She was beautiful, for her ability of make other people smile, even if she was sad. No, she wasn’t beautiful for something as temporary as her looks. She was beautiful, deep down to her soul.”

And as Beyonce would put it in today’s context, I’m not cute, “I’m a grown woman.”