I discovered why, it is nice to have long legs.
It gets you used, at an early age, to non-compliance.
When you are the only girl in a row of boys, because the desk is too small, and your knees rage.
It gets you used, chillingly well, to being a grown up.
When you keep back yet another pretty pair of shoes, because they are only in the kids range.
It gets you used, frustratingly, to curling up in your world, yet again.
When you stretch that blanket all night, to cover both your blue toes and your head.
It gets you used, happily so, to being picked first. Always first.
When you are the one everyone wants in their team, playing any game.
It gets you used, unfortunately, to being treated special. So special.
When you walk by, and it takes a second longer for a man’s gaze to cover you.
It gets you used, boringly so, to being always the outcast.
When no matter where you are, you will have to repeat ‘I will not fit’.
It gets you used, fittingly so, to being happy in your own heels.