Wednesday 31 December 2008

Reflections on 2008

Wow, I haven’t been on here for a LONG time! As is my normal want, I tend to reflect on the year that has just passed a few hours before I ring in the New Year. As I plan on ringing in 2009 watching the fireworks on London Bridge, I thought I’d slip a line in now.
So, what do I think of 2008? Well, I’m not sure I got the best out of it, but I feel I’ve learnt a lot, particularly towards the end of the year. So let’s recap:

1) I began the year full brimming with confidence that I would be a writer; all the articles I wrote were rejected!
2) I offered my services as freelance PA to keep me solvent – no one took me up on it.
3) Five people offered me jobs and then retracted their offers when I took them up on it.
4) I fell out with the woman I was helping write her book as she tried to scam me out of the amount she agreed to pay me.
5) I started this blog!
6) I applied for over 100 jobs with no success!
7) I’ve discovered that people find me scary and intimidating! Not my problem I say!
8) After 8 months of searching I finally found a job for 6 weeks, which was nice while it lasted.
9) I have finally given up trying to like either red or white wine – I simply cannot take the sour taste!

10) I have let go of a few more people who I didn’t need in my life.

On a good note:

a) I became more in tune with who I really am
b) I’m going to be in a fashion show in LA! Woohoo!!!!!!!!
c) On the advice of a dear friend of mine I’m going to continue with my writing and see how far I can go with it.
d) I have FINALLY gone wireless and now I can access the internet pretty much anywhere!! Next I’ll get my digital camera and then I’m all set. I know, I get excited about a lot of things! LOL

Oh, also, I have made peace with the fact that the only men I attract in England are unhinged. I guess some attention is better than none at all!!

So 2008, while it wasn’t everything I thought it could be, it wasn’t as terrible as it could have been either. But that said I’ve realised that life is what we make it. With that in mind, I have decided that 2009 will be my year of taking risks.

During the last few months of my father’s life in 2007, he spoke of the things he regretted not doing. It was so sad but it taught me a valuable lesson. Life is so very fragile. We don’t know what each moment will bring our way; even though it sounds like a cliché, we really should live each day fully as though it was our last. When we live this way, we find that we will be more inclined to step out of our boats and walk on water. Even if we don’t accomplish the thing we stepped out of the boat for, and least we will “fail” trying! HAPPY NEW YEAR TO YOU ALL!

Friday 1 August 2008

Love this song!

I was trying to figure out how to get the actual screen of this song on my blog, but if you click on the link instead you can enjoy the wonderful music of Carole King! "Natural Woman" is my favourite song of hers. What a legend! Enjoy!

Dude, I said NO!!

I get asked out quite a lot by guys; I like to think that I am a pretty good judge of character and during the course of conversations with the majority of them, I can tell what they are are about and whether or not there will be any type of relationship with them, be it romantic or friendship.

When they ask me out, I very politely tell them no. I really do appreciate the courage it must take for a guy to ask a girl out...I couldn't do it!! I can count on one hand those who have respected my wishes and left it at that. The rest keep on pushing me to go out with them. Again I very gently and politely decline. When they sill keep hassling me, so as to not hurt their feelings I tell them I already have a boyfriend, which isn't true! At this point some say "Oh, ok. But we can still be friends, give me your number." Yeah, right!! Others have the barefaced cheek to say "So what? I'm not asking to date him, I'm asking to date you"!!!! Uh huh - if I was actually foolish enough to go out with these kind of guys I would be one of a harem of women he'd be dating!!

Why won't some guys take no for an answer? While in one sense I admire their persistence, in another I resent the fact they are trying to force me into doing something that I've told them I don't want to do.

How do you get a guy to respect the fact that you do not wish to date him without have to resort to having an imaginary boyfriend???


Whenever strangers stop to talk to me, one of the first things they ask me is where I’m from.

People tend to mean different things by this question, so I give different answers on each occasion just to try and figure out what people are really asking me. Sometimes I say “I’m Nigerian.” On hearing this response some will say “were you born there?” I reply that I was born in London, and then they will say “so what you mean is you’re British and your ancestry is Nigerian.” Other times I will reply “I’m from London.” The enquirer will then say “I mean where are you from originally?” the implication being that they do not identify me as coming from this land. When I answer that my parents are from Nigeria they are satisfied with the response.

Experimentation aside, I classify myself as Nigerian. The reason being that although I was born and raised in London, I was raised in a Nigerian household with the values, etiquette's and cultural leanings of my ancestors. I was surprised to discover that a lot of people, both black and white, take offence at this. The stance of some is “why are you here if you don’t want to be identified as being British?” They assume my stance is a racial/political thing, but it isn’t at all! In my (Nigerian) culture, you are where your father comes from. So if my father was Irish and my mother Nigerian, I would be classed as Irish, full stop. If my father was Nigerian and my mother Irish, I would be classed as Nigerian, full stop. Still others will state that if your ancestors emigrated here from somewhere else, you cannot claim to be British. For me, if any person living in this society decides to classify themselves as being British though their ancestors were not, this is perfectly acceptable. I cannot see why there should be an issue with either scenario.

I’ve watched many documentaries where hundreds of thousands of people with full British ancestry emigrate to a foreign country and identify themselves as “ex-pat British”, even down to their children who are born in that foreign country. I have yet to hear of an instance where the people take on the identity of the land they have called home for many years. But this stance is readily accepted.

What do you think? Why is how people identify themselves a source of contention for some people? Would it offend you if someone in your society chose to take on the identity of their ancestors (assuming their ancestors were not originally from your society)? If so why? What are the motives/implications you read into such a decision? Should a person take their identity from who they were nurtured by or where they were nurtured?

Saturday 26 July 2008

Should we ever let go of our dreams?

I’m always fascinated by stories of people who have overcome all kinds of odds and gone on to do incredible things with their lives. Men and women who refused to give up no matter how many failures they encountered. Something inside of them wouldn’t let them give up; they KNEW that they would make it.

There are also equally incredible stories of men and women who had a dream and pursued it with everything they had; but somewhere along the line they came to the life changing realisation that they were supposed to do something completely different. It got me do you know when you need to fight past the obstacles to accomplishing your dreams, and how do you know when you need to wake up and ‘smell the coffee’? WHAT is the difference?

I think of Carmine Giovinazzo, a highly successful actor who plays the character of Danny Messer in CSI New York. His lifelong dream was to become a major league baseball player. He set the wheels in motion to pursue his dream, but a severe back injury put an end to it. During his recuperation he discovered he had a talent for acting. Guess what his first role was? As a baseball player!!!!

I’ve been 6ft 8ins tall since I was about 13 years old. While I was still at secondary school, a lady suggested that I try modelling. It sounded like a great idea; I had never even considered modelling. I remember calling the Association of Model Agents to find a good agency for me; an incredibly snooty lady answered and during our conversation I asked her if I would be able to model at 6ft 8inches tall. She exclaimed “certainly not, you’re far too tall!” I hung up, angry but not surprised.

Over the years I have made a number of attempts to start a career in the modelling industry. I joined a number of agencies, I had a few modelling assignments in Holland which didn’t work out, I posted my details on a site which specialised in modelling opportunities for very tall women, but I only ever got sleazy offers. In short, I ended up with zilch.

Last year I finally ‘smelt the coffee’ and re-evaluated the whole situation. For every Naomi Campbell there are literally thousands of others who don’t make it; not because they didn’t give it their all, but simply because the industry will not allow them entry and they realised that their dream of living the jet set lifestyle of a model simply wasn’t to be. Despite the fact that people have always said to me that I should be a model, I know it isn’t going to happen.

As I took stock of my life, I tried to figure out what path my life SHOULD take. I assessed all of my strengths and weaknesses. So far I know that I want to dedicate myself to a purpose/cause greater than myself. I love helping people. In my old secondary school I was great at giving advice. People would always come to me for pearls of wisdom, such as they were at 15 years of age! I also enjoy writing, when I can figure out what to write! This blog is the most exposure my writing has been given. I’ve written a few pieces for magazines which have been rejected. I must admit that, even though my writing tutors told me that I must expect A LOT of rejections, I did lose heart when it happened. But I’m back writing again, albeit it for free!! So far I cannot say I am passionate about writing, but it is a thrill to get an idea about something, write it up and post it on my blog. Who knows, it may develop into a passion!

But still...what is the point at which a person should reconsider whether or not their dream should be pursued? Some were highly successful while pursuing their dreams, but through one set of circumstances or another they realised they were to follow another far more rewarding path. With others, persistent failure to make it in their chosen dreams served as a sign that it wasn’t to be. Maybe the point at which a person knows whether or not to press ahead with their dreams or to change paths is an individual thing.

I don’t think that realising YOUR dream is over signifies failure or that you made the wrong choice – it just means that there is ANOTHER vocation for you to pursue. What do you think?

Friday 25 July 2008


I've been pondering a few things lately. This year more so than any other year in my life I have been studying my relationships with people. At primary school I had a friend, Joyce Quinlivan, who I regarded as my best friend. As little kids do, we had a cycle of fighting and making up again. When primary school was over, as we were not going to be attending the same secondary schools, we never contacted each other again.

In secondary school I made friends easily, but then as the inevitable fights occured, I found that I was viewed as being cause of the problem and left out of the group. For some reason everyone sided with the person I was having the issue with. I'm very analytical so I always looked at both sides of an argument. I could see where I over reacted sometimes and other times I could see where the other person was totally out of line. But for everything that happened, I NEVER started fights; I always responded/reacted to situations. I wondered why I could never see these incidents coming; the drama ALWAYS caught me off guard, they were so unexpected. But somehow I ended up the bad guy in the situation. This pattern has continued throughout my adult life. The last three years especially I have found that no matter how polite and friendly I am, I'm the one that ends up with no genuine friends. Friendship to me has become the Eighth Wonder of the World. I look in awe at people who so effortlessly make friends and end up having true heart relationships with people, and on earth do they do that??? It really does seem like a miracle to me.

Then I got to wondering whether or not I really am the problem. When you see a pattern of something there has got to be something in that, right? I remember someone once upon a time saying something to the effect that, if you have a problem with one person then that is normal, but if one person has problems with lots of people, then that person is the problem. I have come to believe that maybe this is true of me. Maybe the way I view myself and the way others view me is totally different. I see myself as friendly, outgoing, genuine and loyal. One person said to me not so long ago that I can be a bit full on, a bit much. She suggested that my rough edges needed to be smoothed out. But is that a problem? I'm not the only one with rough edges. But what standard did she use to determine that my edges are rough? I read a scripture in the bible which says: "He who desires friends must himself be friendly." But I think I am!!!

I often wonder if it is a cultural thing. The Brits and those who have been in England long enough to really take on the culture aren't renowned for their friendliness. When I was in the US I loved it so much because you could talk to people. Yes, people ACTUALLY would approach me to talk to me. I recall when I was in New York for the first time in 2005. If I looked like I was lost, within moments someone would come and offer assistance. I was never left needing help for up to 30 seconds; I am NOT exaggerating. In England you would be left standing for hours before someone would come and try to help you. Even in the bars in the US people would talk to me. In the streets I could strike up conversations; I'm sure that if I had been there longer, I may have made friends with some of these people.

Or is this a cop out on my part? Maybe I simply need to humble myself, and listen to all the things that people have said and deal with them as needed. But how do I know that the things that happened weren't to do with the other person's issues and not my own? If I change the things that a few people have said (some people have split on me and I sincerely do not know why) do I not run the risk of conforming to their idea and understanding of how I'm supposed to be as opposed to being who I really am, warts and all? Will I not lose my identity? Will I not just be a people pleaser? If I change one element of who I am to satisfy one group of people, another set of individuals will despise me for that element now being absent from my personality. What in the world is a person to do????

Answers/suggestions/advice warmly received!!

Thursday 24 July 2008


I had my tooth pulled out this month! Wow, what an experience; I definitely do not recommend it! I'd had a root canal done five years ago and had a crown fitted on what remained of the tooth. Unfortunately the crown wasn't fitted well so the germs caused my tooth to decay all the way to the root. My cheek was so swollen. Once I can figure out how to download the picture from my phone I will show it to you; I looked like a bull frog!! Once the swelling had gone down sufficiently after taking copious amounts of antibiotics, I was scheduled to have the tooth pulled at a teaching hospital. I felt a bit sad because the tooth had been a part of me for so many years. I don't know if I've always had it, or whether it appeared after my milk teeth had fallen out. I don't know if it was my wisdom tooth or my molar, but it was second from the back on the bottom left hand side!

I was a bit apprehensive at first when I went to the hospital. Ordinarily I would never let a trainee touch me at all, but I reasoned that as the person I would be seeing would still be in training and be supervised, they would be a lot more careful and thorough than regular dentists. I was right. I had a lovely Zimbabwean chap attend to me. He was very thorough and explained everything very clearly. Then after checking with his supervisor that everything was ok, we proceeded. First the dreaded injections. iii-yiii-yiiii! What a barbaric procedure! I had opted to just have the area where the tooth needed to be pulled numbed rather than having a local anaesthetic. The pessimist in me says that if I get put to sleep by injection I may not wake up again!! Don't worry, I'm working on it!!

When the area was finally numbed, which took at least four injections, he proceeded to remove the offending tooth. He had in his hand what looked like a screwdriver-like tool. I gasped and closed my eyes. The pressure on my mouth was tremendous. He was really digging away at something. I realised I was holding my breath and started to breathe again. As I did so I opened my eyes only to see him pick up what looked like a pair of pliers! My eyes widened in horror; was this guy for real???!!! He tried to latch onto my tooth and pull. This went on for what seemed like a long while. He tried to pull again and I made a strangulated sound and he stopped. I asked if it wouldn't be better, as per his previous suggestion, to cut my gum and remove the tooth as he seemed unable to pull it out. He said it would be better to do it the way he was attempting now, as the post operative stress of cutting the gum was quite severe. I said ok, but I didn't believe him. I could see that his male ego wouldn't allow him to take any other course of action. I imagined him saying something to himself like: "this piddly little tooth won't defeat me; I train at the gym three times a week for goodness sake!"

After a few more moments wrestling in vain with my tooth, he called over the senior dentist. They discussed what the problem was in dental slang, and then the senior dentist picked up the screw driver again. I was soon sorry that the trainee wasn't able to remove my tooth, for the senior dentist, with no regard for my comfort or squeamishness, commanded me to open my mouth wide, and proceeded to dig away with tremendous force with the screw driver, then when that mind blowing experience was over, he latched onto my tooth with the pliers and pulled it with all of his might. Have you ever watched weight lifting competitions? You see how every muscle in their body trembles when they are trying to pick up those seriously heavy weights? Well that is what was happening to the dentist! His arm was trembling like mad. I was making increasing louder strangulated protestations, when there was what sounded like a soft crunch, and then the tooth came away. I remember thinking, if having a tooth pulled is this traumatic, there is no way I'm having a baby!!

Sunday 15 June 2008

I don’t know about any of you, but I am a CSI fiend! I love CSI New York and Las Vegas. I watch CSI NY because I love the characters and the storylines and I love CSI Las Vegas because of the emphasis on the science.
One story in particular really blew my mind. CSI LV a couple of years ago featured the story of a woman who had been brutally attacked and made a positive identification of the man who did it. When the team arrested the suspect and took his DNA, however, it didn’t match the DNA they found on the woman. She was adamant that the man she had identified WAS her attacker, but the crime lab told her that the DNA evidence said otherwise. It turned out that the man was indeed the one that attacked her. But why didn’t the DNA confirm this?

The man in question was a chimera. A chimera is a man or woman who has two completely different DNA strands in different parts of their body; you are supposed to have only one DNA code throughout your system. In the case on CSI the man had a twin brother who had died in his mother’s womb, but the DNA from the dead twin made its way into the living twin’s body. This man knew that he was a chimera and tried to use this to commit the perfect crime; i.e. he could leave all the trace evidence he wanted because the DNA discovered would be that of his dead twin, not his.

On the Discovery Channel in February, they aired a documentary about chimeras which was absolutely fascinating.

The most interesting case was that of a woman who needed a kidney transplant. The doctors tested her immediate family members to see if any of them could be a donor; the doctors told the woman their tests showed her sons were not her biological children. The woman was understandably baffled by this revelation. After ruling out the possibility that all three of her children had been switched at birth, a team of doctors took up the case to find out what was going on. Test after test confirmed that she was not the mother of her children. In fact, DNA tests proved that her husband and his brother were the biological parents of her children!!!!

After two years of testing, the doctors discovered the woman was a chimera. They took DNA from her ovaries, hair, and some of her glands and they finally found the DNA strand that matched that of her children.

There are 40 recorded cases of chimerism world wide. In those cases, there are signs, both subtle and stark, that they have the condition. In one case the person’s skin had very distinct light and dark chequered markings, in another case the body was divided down the middle by a line; one side was light coloured the other side was dark. There are other common indicators such as eyes of two different colours, or multicoloured hair. But in the case of the women on the documentary, they had no such symptoms. NOTHING marked them out as different in any way at all.

A person can be a chimera and have absolutely no clue about it. The woman in this case concurred that had she not needed a transplant, she would have gone to her grave never knowing she was a chimera. This was a point the doctors picked up – simply because there are 40 known cases of chimerism it doesn’t translate that only 40 chimeras exist. Because so little is known about this condition it is impossible to give any kind of indication as to how many other chimeras there may be. Chimerism is so rare that it is not known how to treat it or how to prevent it from happening.

The viability of using DNA as a 100% proof positive or negative catchall was called into question. In the cases on the documentary, DNA evidence was completely wrong. The fallibility of DNA testing was seen for the first time. If a person knew they had the condition they could, as the character in CSI Las Vegas did, use this knowledge in a wicked way thereby making a mockery of a once failsafe system. If a father wanted proof that the children his partner had were his, and he was a chimera and didn’t know it, DNA would say he wasn’t the father, implying that the woman had been unfaithful!! What a nightmare!!

Interesting isn’t it?

Wednesday 4 June 2008

Goodbye to Toxic Relationships

“Belinda!” the familiar voice trilled on the other end of the phone. “How are you? I haven’t spoken to you for ages. With you it was a case of out of sight out of mind. Sorry!”

What a nasty thing to say, I thought. That comment was the final straw; after nearly an hour of *Tara twittering on about her new life with her new husband, I hung up and put and end to what was without doubt the most toxic relationship I’d ever had.

Tara Bellingham. What a mistake that friendship was! I blame myself for not kicking her out of my life sooner. I’d been meaning to do it for years but never did. At the time I was not a confrontational person and consequently I never challenged her pompous and self righteous ways.

At school Tara had been the stereotypical unattractive girl that longed to be part of the in-crowd, but realising that would never happen she contented herself with riding on their coat tails. She befriended the pretty girls who were going out with the hottest guys in school so that she could be as close as possible to the lifestyle that was completely out of her grasp.
All her life Tara longed to be like these girls; popular, slim, pretty and in great demand. The slim thing never happened but her brilliant mind propelled her into the inner circles of many influential groups. And boy, did she love to let you know that she had arrived! People were always coming to her for advice of some kind and she never passed up an opportunity to show how much she knew in comparison to her lesser educated companions. “Phlegm isn’t biodegradable,” was one of her gems, or “Tara's 110 Craptastic Facts”, as I called such meaningless revelations.

I used to have such contempt for women who stayed with abusive partners. “Leave him, you silly woman!” I would yell whenever I read or watched accounts of women being physically or verbally abused. But by not having the courage to break off my friendship with Tara, wasn’t I exactly the same as these women?

With the steam still coming out of my ears from the phone call, I recalled some of the other incidents where Tara had treated me disrespectfully. I had once lent her an outfit which I had never worn which she lost and she acted as though I had no right to question her as to its whereabouts. I never got it back and she never apologised for it. She even had the nerve to ask if she could borrow another outfit some time later. In our relationship she was the one who gave the advice; any advice I gave wasn’t well received as I wasn’t of the right social and intellectual calibre as far as she was concerned.

I had challenged her once when I caught her flirting with her close friend’s husband, who Tara had once described as “the love of her life”. Tara and this man had been so close for so many years that at one point it was thought they would get married. Tara's response to my query was to literally scream her defence of her behaviour at me in the street. I was nauseated by her attitude because I wasn’t accusing her of anything; I was simply telling her to be aware of what she was doing as her friend had looked very uncomfortable when the flirting took place. Later, instead of apologising for being completely out of line, Tara said very matter of factly that she had spoken to me that way she had because she could.

Despite all of these abuses I remained friendly with Tara through thick and thin. I was always there when she needed someone to talk to. Mine was one of the many shoulders that she cried on over the years when she despaired of ever getting married, which had been a dream of hers since she was a child. We hung out a lot and often spoke of life as single women. I wasn't bothered about being single but it bothered Tara a great deal. Tara's main gripe was that there were far more interesting things for people to do as a couple; people always invited you out to dinner and you fit into society better.

When Tara finally met her future husband on the internet, our relationship changed very quickly. Of course I knew it would change as it had to, but Tara pretty much cut me out of her life completely. I knew Tara well enough by that time to know what was really happening - having finally got her man, she could do what she had wanted to do for ten years...become part of the "couples set".

Still pondering the "out of sight, out of mind" comment, I started wondering who my real friends were. I began to evaluate all of the friendships I had at the time. I picked up my mobile phone and looked at each name in my contacts list, carefully assessing my relationship with each one. I deleted the ones who I believed I needed to separate myself from and at the end of that painful but necessary exercise, I could count the friends I had on one hand. It was a depressing but empowering moment. I vowed from that moment on that I would only befriend those who viewed me as their equal and who would love and respect me as much as I loved and respected them. If that meant that I would only have a handful of friends, so be it!!

With hindsight I can see that the toxic relationship with Tara was able to flourish because I allowed it to. I had issues with my self esteem at the time, but having dealt with that, no one could ever treat me that way now. I totally forgive Tara for everything and wish her all the best in her life. I've vowed not to be bitter about any of the unwholesome relationships that I have cut out of my life and this in itself is very healing and brings its own rewards.

Are any of your relationships toxic? If you answer in the negative to any of the following questions, you need to re-evaluate whether or not that person should be in your life:

1. Do you feel like an equal in the relationship? Does your friend like to give advice/suggestions to you more than they like to take it from you?
2. Do they drain you emotionally and spiritually?
3. Does your friend only contact you to hang out when they have nothing else to do? Do they only want to socialise with you for their own benefit?
4. Do they talk to you in a way that is disrespectful?
5. Do you tend to feel mostly good or bad after spending time in their company?
6. Are you afraid to challenge them when they do or say things that aren’t right? Why are you afraid?

Life is far too short to spend it with people who don’t deserve you. Walk away from every toxic relationship you have; if during the cull you discover that you only have one real friend, then thank God for them and treasure them, because believe me when I tell you, true friends are very rare jewels indeed!!

*Tara = not her real name

Saturday 31 May 2008

Can't wait!!

Monday is payday for me, and whilst the bulk of it will be shelled out on my way overdue rent payments, I'm wondering what little treat I should get for myself. I live with my sister, Chi, who is is a total angel. She hasn't hassled me for the rent or made me feel uncomfortable about having no money. She has bent over backwards and forwards to accommodate me, going way out of her way to help me out. She has given me lifts places, given me money even though she has been strapped for cash herself and whenever she makes a meal she makes sure there is enough for me too . She is a very special person!! I'm wondering what to get her as a thank you gift. She really has been a diamond!

Anyway, one of the things that I always do when I get some cash is buy a little treat for myself. Nothing fancy, just a cake or something.

My all time favourite desserts in no particular order are cheesecake, profiteroles, apple pie, apple crumble and apple tart. YUM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Check out some of these incredible cheesecakes that I found from a company called The English Cheesecake Company (

Hi there!

Welcome to my blog! I am one of a growing community of very tall women around the world and I set up this page to connect with you all and anyone else who stops by.

I’m 36 years old and 6ft 8ins tall! I never thought I would EVER be comfortable with my height but I love it now. I went through the same teenage trials and tribulations that other tall people, especially women, have been through and are going through so you are among friends here!!

So, what do you do for a living?
As a tall person do you feel inadequate in your current career because it is not a managerial or white collar position? I am always asked if I am a model, basketball player, a manager or if I went to university. When I respond in the negative I am then quizzed about the type of job I do. When it becomes clear that I am not in a managerial position, I am made to feel that I am not living up to my potential and that I am totally wasting my life. Do any of you ever get that? Are you made to feel that you are in the wrong place doing the wrong thing? I’ve lost count of how many articles I have seen on the web declaring that tall people earn more that their smaller counterparts, are natural leaders, and in positions of authority etc. Do you feel like you are ‘not being true to your kind’ if you are not living up to these expectations? Why does extra height mean that you are capable of things that others a few inches shorter than you may not be capable of? Why does the fact that I am a few inches taller than average automatically mean that I should be doing something other than what I am doing now? What if I am happy in my non-managerial, non-white collar post? Why is my height tied to what society believes I should be achieving?

Love to hear from you on that!