“Whether in sports or at the dinner table, I’ve learned that success isn’t about fitting in, it’s about finding your own way to stand tall.”

At first glance, nothing about me would suggest I struggle with anything out of the ordinary. My dad stands over six feet tall, my mom is 5’8”, and genetically speaking, I should have inherited their height. But at 18, I measure just 5’2”. When I was diagnosed with celiac I was twelve and the doctor explained to me I was the average size of a healthy 7 year old. This diagnosis was after 2 years of remaining stagnant on the child growth chart. My doctors told me I would not make up the loss and this has had a deep impact on my life. What might seem like a small detail like avoiding certain ingredients, has shaped how I socialize, how I think about myself, and even how I eat under pressure as an athlete.

I played basketball, flag football, golf and soccer but always felt like I had a size disadvantage in basketball and as a goalie in soccer. Eventually my soccer coach changed my position due to my size which was extremely hard for me to accept but I understood that my team’s success was more important than my individual goal. That shift helped me reframe how I see success, but it didn’t solve everything.

Eating as an athlete requires energy and quick refueling. A quick bite or carb loading wasn’t an easy option. Instead, eating became a stressor, reading labels, packing food in advance, asking questions no one else had to ask. It wasn’t just about the inconvenience. At team events, I often sat with an empty plate or picked at a salad while everyone else enjoyed a meal. Parents of teammates would offer me food but I’d have to decline, watching their expressions turn from joy to guilt when I explained my disease. I felt like a burden, like my needs made things harder for everyone else.

Eating at restaurants was another challenge. I was asked whether ordering gluten free was by choice or due to celiac disease. I’ve come to understand that restaurants need to know for safety reasons, but it doesn’t make it easier to disclose a medical issue to a stranger. It feels invasive to have to defend my health just to eat a meal.

And yet, this experience has given me something, too. It’s taught me how to advocate for myself, how to plan ahead, and how to approach people with both firmness and grace. It’s helped me develop empathy, because I know what it feels like to be unintentionally excluded. It's shown me that health isn't always visible, and that courage sometimes looks like asking the uncomfortable question when everyone else is ready to eat.

At 5 feet 2 inches, my height and my diet may set me apart from my teammates, but these differences have shaped me into someone resilient, mindful, and adaptable. Whether in sports or at the dinner table, I’ve learned that success isn’t about fitting in, it’s about finding your own way to stand tall.

- Alexa W.