If I Should Have A Child Someday, I Hope She Is Tall

If I Should Have A Child Someday, I Hope She Is Tall

For the girls made to stand in the back during class pictures, I have some advice for you.
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If should have a child someday, I hope she is tall. It’s not that I would love any gender, race, shape or size child any less than another, but I have some thoughts to share with tall girls on the subject of growing up.

Like when she is going through puberty: I would tell her the reason certain size pants, shirts and jackets do not fit her the same way they do some other girls is because she has longer arms, a longer torso and longer legs than other girls do. And because anything in a size “tall” also assumes that the wearer is not curvy in any way. Her size is perfect the way it is. To allow a label to define her self-worth is a recipe for an empty existence.

On dating: Attraction, be it physical, emotional and/or intellectual, one prominent concept defines the difference between a romantic interest and a platonic one. Physical attraction plays a prominent role when differentiating friendship and relationships. It’s not superficial to think so, but simply the fact that people are attracted to different physical attributes. If the attraction is not there than the relationship may not be either. Tall girls are supposed to be attracted to tall guys, they are supposed to only date tall guys. Otherwise, society tells us that it doesn’t look right. Society is wrong. We should be looking at the couple in how they see each other. So date tall or date short, date whomever you choose. Don't base that choice on society’s expectations.

When she is picking out shoes for prom: If you are in love with a pair of shoes, put them back on the shelf because they are too expensive not because the heel is too high. Your date, be it a young man or a young woman or just a group of friends, should not be a determining factor in your choice of footwear. I remember when I was at the mall searching desperately for kitten heels that went with my dress and ignoring the beautiful heels that were more than two inches in fear that my date would look short. In my exasperating search, a woman working at one of the stores said one very simple thing to me: “Girl, if you look good in the shoes why should anything else matter. You’re tall, and you should rock that sh*t." Since that day, I can proudly say that I have purchased and even ruined some beautiful heels of all sizes

Tall is beautiful.

To that assh*le at the party who asks who invited the Amazons: First of all, this guy single-handedly is trying to turn the concept of a planet of independent, confident, sexy and fearless women into an insult. I do not think I need to elaborate on how short-sighted that is. To that small-minded individual that tries to turn your gift of being tall into a negative thing, know that if you were actually an Amazon it would be all too easy to physically crush him into the tiny being that he is so that his outsides reflect his insides.

When you’re taking a group photo with people shorter than you: Don't you ever shrink for anyone. Don’t you ever slouch to make others appear taller. If the people you surround yourself with expect you to hunch down so they look taller, then you need new people. By physically shrinking you are basically saying to those people in the photo and the world that you are willing to make yourself smaller to build others up when you should be building yourself up and inspiring and supporting others to do the same. Never make your star less bright so others can shine. If you are perfectly who you are and comfortable with who that person is, people will come to you. In a group of friends there should be a balance and a desire to empower one another.

In no way is this advice only applicable for young tall women, but that is my point of reference when machete-ing my way through the jungle that is adolescence. That’s exactly it. I know these things because I experienced them firsthand and am guilty of learning them the hard way and eventually discovering for myself what it truly means to stand tall. As parents, for which I have no point of reference only my personal conjecture, we should want to start our kids off confidently, especially with the ever growing rates of depression and suicide. We should be celebrating self-confidence and with that perhaps future generations can accomplish more without focusing on the trivial.

Cover Image Credit: Shutterstock, FUSION

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The Coach That Killed My Passion

An open letter to the coach that made me hate a sport I once loved.
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I fell in love with the game in second grade. I lived for every practice and every game. I lived for the countless hours in the gym or my driveway perfecting every shot, every pass and every move I could think of. Every night after dinner, I would go shoot and would not allow myself to go inside until I hit a hundred shots. I had a desire to play, to get better and to be the best basketball player I could possibly be.

I had many coaches between church leagues, rec leagues, personal coaches, basketball camps, middle school and high school. Most of the coaches I had the opportunity to play for had a passion for the game like I did. They inspired me to never stop working. They would tell me I had a natural ability. I took pride in knowing that I worked hard and I took pride in the compliments that I got from my coaches and other parents. I always looked forward to the drills and, believe it or not, I even looked forward to the running. These coaches had a desire to teach, and I had a desire to learn through every good and bad thing that happened during many seasons. Thank you to the coaches that coached and supported me through the years.

SEE ALSO: My Regrets From My Time As A College Softball Player

Along with the good coaches, are a few bad coaches. These are the coaches that focused on favorites instead of the good of the entire team. I had coaches that no matter how hard I worked, it would never be good enough for them. I had coaches that would take insults too far on the court and in the classroom.

I had coaches that killed my passion and love for the game of basketball.

When a passion dies, it is quite possibly the most heartbreaking thing ever. A desire you once had to play every second of the day is gone; it turns into dreading every practice and game. It turns into leaving every game with earphones in so other parents don't talk to you about it. It meant dreading school the next day due to everyone talking about the previous game. My passion was destroyed when a coach looked at me in the eyes and said, "You could go to any other school and start varsity, but you just can't play for me."

SEE ALSO: Should College Athletes Be Limited To One Sport?

Looking back now at the amount of tears shed after practices and games, I just want to say to this coach: Making me feel bad about myself doesn't make me want to play and work hard for you, whether in the classroom or on the court. Telling me that, "Hard work always pays off" and not keeping that word doesn't make me want to work hard either. I spent every minute of the day focusing on making sure you didn't see the pain that I felt, and all of my energy was put towards that fake smile when I said I was OK with how you treated me. There are not words for the feeling I got when parents of teammates asked why I didn't play more or why I got pulled after one mistake; I simply didn't have an answer. The way you made me feel about myself and my ability to play ball made me hate myself; not only did you make me doubt my ability to play, you turned my teammates against me to where they didn't trust my abilities. I would not wish the pain you caused me on my greatest enemy. I pray that one day, eventually, when all of your players quit coming back that you realize that it isn't all about winning records. It’s about the players. You can have winning records without a good coach if you have a good team, but you won’t have a team if you can't treat players with the respect they deserve.

SEE ALSO: To The Little Girl Picking Up A Basketball For The First Time


Cover Image Credit: Equality Charter School

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Most Incoming Freshmen Are Only Worried About Making Friends, But I'm Worried About When To Tell My New Friends About My Disability

I shouldn't have to worry about if people are going to accept me for something I can't control.

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Going to college is a big change for anyone and it's a difficult time for a lot of us. It is hard enough being an incoming freshman at a new school, let alone a freshman with a disability.

I never knew how much extra stuff I had to do in order to be able to get the accommodations I need plus all the typical college duties a student has on their plate. I had to fill out an online application to prove my disability, a learning accommodations form, an accommodations form, a Vocational Rehab form, a transportation form, plus the millions of other forms you have to fill out in order to become a student at any college.

It took three hours... It was very overwhelming. And I had to talk to a lot of people about the million forms I filled out without my parents' help.

"Welcome to adulthood," they said.

It happened in the blink of an eye. Besides all the forms, choosing roommates is harder than I thought it was going to be. It's something that most people find nerve-wracking. I have the challenge of not only trying to meet new people in an unfamiliar environment like everyone else but in hopes of being accepted by my peers because of my disability.

At what point do I tell people about my disability? Do I tell them when we are getting to know each other or when we are going to meet up? That's probably the thing I am scared the most about.

I have heard that college students are more accepting of disabilities than most high schoolers, which puts me at ease a little bit.

But people can be really cruel, no matter what age.

I am also realizing as I go through the roommate process that students are not properly informed on disabilities and how to treat others with disabilities. I shouldn't have to worry about if people are going to accept me for something I can't control. Students should be nice and accept people of all different abilities. But it's easier said than done.

Another thing, trying to find a job that will be accommodable to me has been difficult. It seems so easy for a typical college student to get a job, but not me. I have spent the last six months applying for jobs just to hear nothing back from businesses. All I want to do is earn money like everyone else to try and go to college.

That's one of the reasons I applied to Vocational Rehab is to potentially get money monthly in order to suffice a job for now or at least to keep me on my toes for a little bit.

There's that... then there is the typical college student stuff housing, dining, medical forms, transcripts, and student sport passes... It is just a lot for one 18-year-old to handle. The point is, as some of you are going through the same college process, be courteous to your classmates around you.

We are all going through something similar but others may be dealing with a little more or nervous so be kind and understanding.

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