My parents raised me to believe I could do anything. I ran around the farm with my siblings and would do everything they did. I was raised to be just like all the other kids.
My mom told me that there was one time when I was in the first grade and my mom stopped by the school for something and all the other kids were out at recess and I was in the classroom playing by myself. My teacher (who had all my siblings and who we all respected) told my mom she was worried I would get hurt. My moms response was “I would rather get a call saying Monica got hurt outside playing than a call saying Monica wasn’t with the other kids.”
My parents made it clear from the start that I was to be treated just like all the other children and for that I will forever be grateful. It’s because of that very reason that I grew up knowing I was “different” in the sense that I was short but I was not “different” in any other way.