Introduction

From the age of thirteen, Belinda grew up with the stigma of being unusually tall. Negative attention, embarrassment, and scorn led to feelings of being unwanted and unaccepted by everyone, but especially by God. She was convinced she was "not supposed to be here." Then one day, while making a contract with Satan, Belinda received a wake up call from God. Finally she began to see that God made her "fearfully and wonderfully" different -- for a reason.

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Belinda's Question of Height

How tall are you?
Do you play basketball?
Are your parent’s tall?
Do you have difficulty getting clothes?
What's the weather like up there?
How tall is your boyfriend?

On and on the questions and comments come, thick and fast. If I had a British pound or an American dollar for every time a total stranger asked me personal, and sometimes insulting questions, I would be able live in the biggest mansion in Beverly Hills, employ a full staff and never have to work ever again!

Welcome to my world, a world in which I stand 6 feet 8 inches tall amidst a sea of much smaller folk! I love my height and praise God for it now! I love the fact that I'm in the elite top five percent of the tallest people on earth and revel in the fact that I'm so different from everyone else. Nowadays incessant, unoriginal questions like the ones above don't really bother me, but it wasn't always so.

Growing to Hate God

From the age of thirteen to twenty-nine when I was very uncomfortable with my height, I used to feel like the Statue of Liberty standing in a colony of ants! Even though I wasn't saved, I used to beg and plead with God almost daily to grant me the only desire I had – to be made smaller. I eventually grew to hate God with a passion for what I perceived as his cruelty toward me. Yet, years later, when I came to understand God's reason for refusing to reduce my height, it totally set me free and laid the whole issue to rest.

As a child I was only slightly taller than average. There was precious little difference between my two sisters and I. It was during the time that I left primary school to start secondary school that I shot up. I wasn't even aware of it; it was the sharp increase in attention from people that made me realize that I had grown a lot taller than I was before.

By then I was just about to hit the all important teens and I was trying to discover who I was, what I was worth, where I belonged and what my life was all about. The fact that I was different was very keenly brought home by the fact that no organization on this earth catered to my physical existence - at all - or so it seemed. I was excluded from practically every aspect of every day life. I couldn't stand straight on the bus; when I did get a seat I would have to sit sideways, my vision would blur when I hit my head on those wretched doors as I misjudged their height.

Everything was too small or too low! I translated this as: "No one caters to me because I am not supposed to be here." This belief became a tremendous stronghold in my life.

Then there were the clothes issues! If there are any tall women reading this, can I get a witness to the complete absence of decent clothing for us? Let's not even go there with the shoes! What shoes!? The situation regarding tall women's couture today isn't perfect, but fifteen years ago, forget it! My first encounters with depression were when I used to go shopping! It is pretty devastating for a woman to be unable to find the clothes that she wants anywhere.

At the time there was a certain store that supposedly catered to tall women. There was one dress in particular that looked like it had been made by someone who had been eating magic mushrooms! I'll never forget it - it was absolutely hideous! In despair I would sometimes think: "God, are you sure I'm supposed to be here?"

Continue reading page 2 of "Belinda's Question of Height"