Life Being Little

Forever a small fish in a big pond

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Monday 27 February 2023

To the Teachers of the Next


To the teachers of the next- a spoken word written for the teachers of the next generation of young people with Dwarfism.

To the Teachers of the next,

You need to hear me out. Now, my anger is not with you so I’ll try not to shout. 

But hear me when I say, I’ve longed for this day- the day someone listens to what I have to say. Because I’ve been there and I know, more than most do- but I’m not the one with the power- that lies with you. 

I get that it’s scary- and you have targets to meet. But imagine how scary it is when you can’t reach your seat. Your peg. Your bag. The dinner hall chair- believe me it sucks because I’ve been there. 

I was too young back then, I couldn’t speak my mind. But I see it now because I’ve served my time: 

I learned the hard way. I hurt and I bled. 

But there can be purpose to the tears that I shed.


Learn from the past. Take what I say. Give them a path that shows them the way. 

The way to a world where they can be who they are.

Where the only limit they see is the sky and the stars.

It’s in what you do. Not just what you say. Because if you’re not committed to learn- trust that I’m not leading your way. 

This isn’t a tick box. The responsibility won’t stop. After an Ofsted inspection or when your marks meet the top. 

Don’t do it because it’s a ‘given’. Do it with care- because without that- believe that we won’t get anywhere. 

This journey ahead- is one I’ve walked for miles, it’ll continue for us but only be yours for a while. Make the impact you have, make you the one they remember. 

Do it with love. Not as a favour. To your representation- or the marks on a sheet. Because at the end of the day- you can still reach your seat. 

So with the kindest regards I’ll leave the rest up to you- if you call for my service trust that I’ll follow through. 

But understand that I’ve already picked up my own heart- so don’t let history repeat. See harm has been done but you can set the next standards to meet. 

Be the adult that I needed.  Because we won’t have to fix what ain’t broke. Be the light that I needed. Lead the next- onto hope. 


Saturday 11 February 2023

It’s not me.

They say you’re only dealt what you can handle, but what happens when what you’re trying to handle is you. 

Trying to understand a body that doesn’t know what to do. 

In a body of 5. A soul two decades older. 

A tiny rock, in a world full of boulders. 

To you I’m the problem. The one that doesn’t fit in. But let it be known I’ve lived my whole life in this skin. I knew my body before I knew yours. If this isn’t normal- than what is I can’t be sure. 

Is it measured in numbers, if so then 60 made me lose. Because that’s the only thing that separates me from you. 60 c m that’s all it took. If it was roles reverse would you let me off the hook? 

See I know I was given the wrong body. Because my soul speaks fire- wanting things beyond even the 6ft desires. I wasn’t meant to be given a body so despaired- not when the soul it houses wouldn’t harm so much as a hair. 

If you met me blindfolded I think we’d be friends- but your sight is what blinds you, and causes harm in the end. You see it before me. I hear laughs before my own name- yet in this world we live in, discrimination is just a game. 

Now it’s my responsibility, to grow thick skin, hang on- I couldn’t even grow full stop. Now let that sink in. 

Think how it feels to at the age of 7 just stop. And watch all of your friends come out on top. 17 years I’ve had to learn to be small. In a body that wishes it could do it all. 

That’s how I know I was dealt the wrong card. Because when you give this much. It shouldn’t be this hard.  It’s not me that was meant to put up this guard. I was the one that was supposed to go far. 

I was supposed to climb to the top. And by that I don’t mean the shelves in the shop. The hurdles weren’t supposed to be in the form of the simple. Some days I can’t understand it- not even a little. 

Why it was me out of the 7 billion that ended up being a fluke. For decades this world believed I belonged in a zoo.

Those that came before me, fought through the circus and shows: but some days the streets still tell me that’s where to go. Understand I’m more qualified now before age 25- than some may see all the days their alive. 

No this body was not meant to be mine. But being different here isn’t the crime. So I’ll cry, scream and curse till no voice is left to hear- but no anger or frustration will make this disappear. 

So we’ll go about it. You do you. I’ll do me. 

Probably not meeting again in any of the places we see. And I’ll fight each day to overcome this trouble whilst the world around me still lives in a bubble. 

A bubble where normal means we look the same. Where the person is known more by their hair colour than even their name. 

See it’s not me, that’s adding gas to the flames, because discrimination to me, ain’t no game. 

It wasn’t meant to be mine but this body you see- is not the problem, and the problem is not me. 


Sunday 16 January 2022

Just a word. Until it’s not.

 ‘When a word becomes a label….’

I’m usually one to stay quiet but I also know what I stand for, and abusive, hurtful comments ain’t it. 

Please take time to listen. And understand. It’s been one hell of a week. But I will never lose hope that education will win.



Saturday 30 October 2021

We can’t act like it’s over.


Dwarfism Awareness Month falls on one month. 31 days we get trending. But then like most things, it falls under the surface again… but how many of you, who have shared our photos, retweeted our hashtags… or even brought my book. How many of you have a plan. A plan on what to do next. What to do when tomorrow comes, and everyone else has forgotten what we spent October fighting for. How many of you, have used this awareness month to really become aware?


Aware of how you could help to reach something off a shelf next time you see us in a shop. Aware how the language you use can help reform the opinions others form on us…. how you could help educate someone else… by sharing what you know… that’s if you really listened. Aware of how by starting a conversation you could have a ripple effect. 


Are you aware of how much you’re needed. Needed, to make any of what we did this month really matter at all. 

Dwarfism Awareness Month is over. But for 7,000 of us in the UK, it’s October every day in our world- everyday that we come across someone who’s never seen one of us before. Every day we enter a building we know is out of our reach. Every day that we live in a world where science hasn’t figured us out yet- and society still loves to laugh and joke.


Until there’s a day, where October isn’t needed- that’s how long we need you. 


So…. What’s your plan. 


Sunday 10 January 2021

Dwarfism- a whatever fits style; Collab with Chamiah Dewey Fashion

Since I can remember, clothing has always been one of the hardest things I associate with my condition, and something which in my teen years especially, was a pinpoint to my insecurities. Being 22 years old, in a body built for a 6-year-old, it's fair to say I am past the days of flashing trainers and pink tights. 


But to find something out of that range without going down the root of tailor-made items, which I think my student bank account would be mortified at- is well.... hard. As is the feeling that you're missing out. Girlie shopping days don't have the same feeling when you know you can't just pick something off a shelf. 


My condition is Achondroplasia- the most common form of Dwarfism. Achondroplasia affects bone growth- particularly in limbs. Meaning we have short arms and legs (particularly short upper arms and thighs), that being said, my torso is as near to average, so t-shirts, hoodies etc... whilst often looking very oversized, can sometimes be gotten away with... that is if they don't have sleeves. 


Sleeves are a no go. 

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