So in homeroom, we had to line up by height. And I was the fifth shortest in my class.
The. Fifth. Shortest.
I refuse to believe that I'm short.
I went to my doctor yesterday, and she told me that I was average in terms of height.
Key word: Average. When did the word average turn into the word short?
Oh, that's right.
Never.
However, deep in my gut, I know that I'm a bit on the shorter side.
But do I accept it? No I do not.
So right now, I'm in this awkward situation where I'm in denial about being in denial.
One time in the waiting room of the dentist's office, I read this psychology magazine. And there was this article about hypnotism.
It said that in order to convince yourself of something, you should say it to yourself until you fully believe it.
And I've been doing that all day. Trying to convince myself that I'm tall.
I almost crashed into a wall at swim practice because my mind was so wrapped up with the problem of my height.
And I might as well do it now too.
For good measure.
I am tall.
I'm not short. I'm tall.
My height would make Yao Ming jealous and if the Empire State Building could think, it would be jealous too.
You, Fiona, are a boss and you are super tall.
...I think it's working.
