In grade 5, I was among the taller kids in my class.

Four years later, most of my peers towered over me. While the teasing and jokes were all well, deep down, it was humiliating.

At 5″3′, I am some way behind India’s average of 5 feet 7 inches, which has always bothered me, even if it doesn’t as much now.

While I have mostly come to live with it, there are moments that (painfully) remind me, and then, I go back to being miserable.

Like the time I went to this party and the host (who’s a friend of a friend), greeted me saying “Wow, you’re short.” (Safe to say I’ve had better moments.)

That’s a single moment in time, among others, that takes me back to my own confrontations with height dysphoria.

I’ve looked at limb lengthening procedures, or considered wearing shoe insoles, and I’ve watched videos on “how to dress to look taller.”

But none of those methods seemed viable, either because I didn’t have the resources for some, or the nerve for the other.

Growing up on the Harry Potter movies, I came to admire Daniel Radcliffe,  who played the titular role in the series. Radcliffe has spoken about his experience with self-image, saying in an interview “I used to be self-conscious about my height, but then I thought, f*ck that, I’m Harry Potter.”

It’s taken me constantly repeating the quote to myself to accept that I don’t have to be taller to fit in/feel good/be a man.