The first thing people usually notice about me is that I’m tall. I know this because they’ll make comments like, “Wow…you’re tall” and it’s just a dead giveaway.

Sometimes, no words are needed. Like when I was a junior in college, playing @ Hawaii. After our game, my teammates and I were meandering along the boardwalk, and I stopped to gawk at something non-Midwestern’y, like a palm tree or a street performer. When I came to, I found myself surrounded by a group of about 10 Japanese tourists who were all pointing at me and smiling for the camera.

Ironic, because the years I spent playing college basketball were the years my height felt the most unremarkable.  I wasn’t the tallest girl on the team anymore. I didn’t have the biggest feet. At any given time…in the weight room… practice gym…training room…I was intermingling with athletes from men’s basketball, volleyball, football, golf, baseball, rowing, etc. who were ALL above-average in height. In this  world, being tall just isn’t an interesting topic of conversation.

Still, it took awhile for the novelty of “blending in” to wear off. I remember the first time my roommate and I cased each other’s closets to find something new to wear to the bars, I mean, movies. That was an unprecedented and exhilarating moment—borrowing a friend’s clothes! And you couldn’t deny the sheer presence we created when we traveled in a pack. Sometimes, after a  grueling practice, we would treat ourselves to dinner at a really nice restaurant. We’d all stride into that Olive Garden like the bad-ass ballers we knew we were, oblivious to the stares and comments, our body language shouting, Prepare the breadsticks, bitches!

After college, it took awhile to assimilate into normal-size humanity. I missed the confidence and security that came with identifying as a basketball player, with my built-in bff’s of similar stature by my side. Now, I was a working lady, wearing slacks that were a little too short and blouses with 3/4 length sleeves (wink, wink). I tried sporting heels for a few months, until I discovered I actually couldn’t hear what my co-workers were saying.

I had enjoyed a little 5-year hiatus from insightful comments like My sister is tall…but not as tall as you! or I always wanted to be tall, but only like, 5’10” at the MOST. But they were back in full-force…at the grocery store, at the gas station, at the mall…and I had to figure out a new response. Occasionally I’d shrug apologetically, and say I knoooooow. Or flash a fake smile and say Wow, I’ve never heard that one before!  Sometimes I’d hear my mom’s voice, urging me to stand up straight, shoulders back, and simply say,  Thank you. (This is always the best option, by the way.)

Now I’m a tall gal raising two small pals, with a husband who always thought he was tall.

But that is not all!

Oh, no.

That is not all…

(To Be Continued…)