Sure, everyone hears about the numerous pros of height. I’m not going to lie, I can attest to most of the benefits, but I’ve also had moments in life where I wished my peak came just a couple inches closer to the national average. As a five-foot-nine female who passed both her parents over a year ago and is still growing, those extra inches can be a hindrance as well. And it wouldn't be as much of an abnormality if I weren't half Japanese and half Filipino, both ethnicities with rather low female height averages. So as an FYI to those who think tall is perfect, and a reminder (that you’re not alone!) to those who can relate, know that I don’t feel blessed when:

…Upon meeting me at a sporting event, a parent says, “You’re so tall! You must be really good at volleyball, do you play basketball, too?” Um, sorry to tear down your conventional image of me, but I've played shortstop in softball for at least six years, and I sucked in that one season of middle school volleyball I tried.

…I’m five inches taller than everyone in my friend squad photo or family portrait, and the photographer gives me a weird look until I slouch to close the height gap between me and the rest of the group.

…I can’t help but reconsider diving for a ball or laying out for a disc because that ground is a hell of a lot further away for me than it is for a teammate who’s six inches shorter. I have a right to be scared to throw my body across a field or court. When you’re short and already that close to the ground, to begin with, there's a lot smaller probability for pain and twisted limbs.

…I trip and stumble, my long arms flail, my legs appear to tangle…bottom line, I end up looking five times more awkward and uncoordinated than someone shorter.

…I get into the back of a compact car and my legs are squashed into that tiny space between the front and back seats.

…A similar struggle to the former, I’m physically unable to cross my legs under certain classroom desks or dining tables because my legs literally don't fit.

…Everyone assumes that I can run fast, which may be the case for Usain Bolt or a track runner with an extremely low body fat percentage. As for me, I sacrifice the speed of my strides for the length of them.

…I purchase jeans or leggings that would look normal on any girl of average height but immediately turn into high waters when I put them on. So much for sharing clothes with my college suitemates.

…I get unwelcome stares and the occasional catcall almost anywhere I walk, whether I’m enjoying that shorts and tank weather, or rocking the leggings and boots winter aesthetic. I should be able to enjoy summer apparel like any other girl without feeling so self-conscious, it’s not like I personally requested these genetics for your entertainment.

…I can’t even bother to ask if a shoe store has my favorite brand or style. Rather, I ask them to bring out whatever shoes they sell in sizes 10 and 11, and most of my shoe choices are done for me. And I’d rather not imagine how tall I would be in heels.

…It’s almost impossible to get comfortable on a short couch, airplane seat, or small twin bed.

…The number of objects I can hit my head on drastically increases. Street signs, tree branches, door frames…I speak from experience.

…For both myself and many others, height turns into an overarching label even though it doesn’t apply to every aspect of our lives. Although people will inevitably continue to make assumptions and stereotypes, I don’t let those social standards limit me from pursuing any new opportunities or force me into categories that I don’t have any interest in belonging to.