Everyone cares. Everyone notices.

Ah, holidays visiting family in the big city. Should be a wonderful time, right? Christmas cheer, the optimistic prospect of a new year, and more.

WRONG.

Everyone has been giving attention to my younger brother, who is 15 and is now 5’10, for having a remarkable growth spurt. I suppose me, at 20 and 5’5, disappointed them so much that they’re happy my brother was able to do the masculine thing and grow to a respectable height (not to mention, he’s still growing).

I went to a theater and the guys in the row behind me were talking about whether they were still growing or not and how to make sure they hit 6’2.

People talked about height when taking group photos, I heard strangers talking about it at shops and in the mall. I hear it everywhere. Constantly. Not just with dating, but with LIFE.

Everyone cares. It matters so much. What other physical trait has this much meaning significance and personality attached to it, aside from the “dumb blonde” stereotype (and even that isn’t really talked about at all).

The world cares about height, and I am not fit for this world. I am traumatized, broken, and see no way out of this anguish I feel.

I would ask for help but I know many of you feel the same.

15 therapists, 4 medications, and 2 psychiatrists later (all on my parents insistence) and I am worse than I’ve ever been. Every single year since 2020 (when I stopped growing) has been worse than the last.

I am so numb and broken I don’t even want to live anymore, but I can’t bring myself to do anything to actually end my life. Just go through the motions, occasionally get delusional enough to ask someone out or be happy, only to be met with the same crushing reality:

I don’t matter. I can’t ever matter. And I was stupid to think I ever would when I’m short.