Memories of being tall

Growing up in a tall family means it's easy to forget how tall you actually are, then you go to a concert!!

Growing up as a tall girl meant I never really had any interest from any boys. Boys (and now men) often said they felt intimidated or that I was scary. I now know that was their own inadequacies rather than me actually being scary or intimidating on purpose. I remember very clearly as a child in school very early on; possibly aged 5 or 6, being laid down in our class as the tallest person and being drawn round. My wobbly silhouette was cut out, plastered with bits of string and pasta for clothes and hair then hung unceremoniously up on the high classroom wall for the next term (or forever!!!) That smiley pasta face still haunts me!! I had big feet and gangly limbs, even my hair was gangly and yet I had the most happiest of childhoods growing up with my equally gangly brother, my 6ft 6 dad and my normal sized mum. We had many good times and my parents taught me to ask questions, be polite and be kind. I wasn't always an angel but I've made it this far and I know they are still very proud of my achievements. Dad is a bit less 6ft 6 now and my mum is the shorty of the family but they are happy and well. I love my parents and the childhood they gave us. I hope I've passed on some of my enthusiasm and resilience for life to my gorgeous daughter 'Abi' who is already blossoming into a very determined and focused young woman