I am on first name terms with gravity. Birds assume I’m a tree without leaves and give me a little chirp as they fly past. Chairs complain at my heft. And doorframes? – well door frames can be so cruel…

I am tall. Extremely tall. Tall enough to be constantly reminded by people (and door frames) quite how tall I am. I get that most people see height as an attribute worth having – and I guess it is. But there is tall and then there is silly tall, freakish tall. There is giant.

I simply don’t fit. Planes and trains are a pain. Only when you’re this tall do you realise quite how many things there are to bang your head on. I even have the scars to prove it.

I am a walking guessing-game that overconfident guys like to play when I dander past. Conversation is often beneath me, literally. In a crowd I have a unique perspective, but I’ve definitely annoyed people standing behind me at concerts.

My wife helpfully reminds me (often) that it has taken me precisely zero skill to be so tall. And I remind her that just like my father and his father before him, my genes have been trying very hard since I was very small…

Illustration and words taken from Nothing to See Here – Zine 5 in the Patchwork Province series.