“I am not my height”

“oh my god look how tall you are!”. One of the many statements i get regarding my height, at least once a day. Being born 11 pounds, I’ve always known i would be “big”. I just never knew that it would become who I was. Who I would always be. I always thought tall was just, well tall. I never really expected to get words thrown at me like “gigantic” “huge” “masculine” and “giant”. And without an exchange of words, or even a second glance, that’s exactly what I became. Going to the doctor was, well, has become something i dread. It means getting on the scale and getting measured and being told by tiny nurses that I’m a “big girl”. Going shopping for jeans and trying on pants that only went to my ankles, as well as foot and knee surgery didnt help me much either.

I am constantly reminded that I should be a model, and as much as that seems like a compliment, it’s not. I hate it. Models are seen only through a judgemental lense, much like i am everyday. If you take a picture of a girl you only see what’s on the outside, like her height, or her hair, or her breasts, and one can suddenly decide if they like her or not. A girl who looks tall, big breasted, and sassy, can feel very small on the inside.

Its so easy for people to come up to me and state the obvious, “you’re so tall” “your boobs are big” “your hair is curly”, but so hard to simply ask how my day is going. I want to scream. Scream that I cant shop at victorias secret, scream that I cant wear heels to my prom, and scream that i will always be labeled what my body type is. And that is why i wanted to do this. I am NOT my height.