My figure has always been one that people want. At least that’s what I have been told my whole life. In elementary school, I towered over the boys I crushed on. In middle school, it was a relief when everyone else started growing too — just never quite as fast as I did. I was always a few inches taller than my classmates, my friends and eventually my older sister.

Now, as a junior who measures 5 feet 11 inches tall and 120 pounds, I am a living, breathing representation that humans are never happy with their body. Some people long for height, and let me tell you: The weather is great up here and I really do enjoy the view. But that was never the problem.

The grass, as they say, is always greener …

Even though my legs and torso were growing vertically, I wasn’t growing anywhere else. In middle school, a friend-of-a-friend even coined the nickname “toothpick” for me which unfortunately stuck. When other girls were talking about having to increase their bra size, I was thinking about the latest trip to Macy’s and all the dresses I tried on that didn’t fit me. Well, they fit certain parts of my body. But the places of the dress that were built to expand for your chest sagged awkwardly against my lean body.

The grass is always greener …

I was skinny. By most standards, I could have even been a model in New York. Somehow, this should have overjoyed me. But it didn’t. Instead, it haunted me. As my sister was diagnosed with anorexia nervosa, I felt the blame. If only I hadn’t surpassed her in height. If only my waist wasn’t so small. If only I didn’t match the magazines’ criteria for the next best thing. My high metabolism was no match for how much I ate or how often I avoided exercising.

The grass is always greener …

Despite my dimensions, I wasn’t getting the attention that was to be expected. I was never popular, never held a string of boys’ hearts in my hand to break, never went to a party that resembled ones in movies. No matter your assets, it’s easy to feel insecure and belittled. Someone who is blessed with a more curvy figure longs for a pen-like silhouette. Someone who is blessed with a petite figure longs to be tall. And so on and so forth.

The grass is always greener …

Despite the size and shape of our bodies, many of us suffer from the same syndrome. I have skinny-girl syndrome. Although my body type fits into the magazines’ favored dimensions, it is not what boys want. Without care, I long for something that boys will find attractive. Something that I will find attractive. But that image in my head is not what I was naturally bestowed. It is not reality.

And it’s about time we accept the truth: there is no other side.