Life in my body... with dwarfism
Danielle Webb, 23, is the only person in her family with achondroplasia, a form of dwarfism
it wasn’t until I was six years old that I started to question why the other people in my class at school were taller than me. According to my mum, who is average height (like the rest of my family), I came home and asked, “Why aren’t I as tall as everyone else?”
“You have special bones,” she replied.
There are lots of types of dwarfism, and mine is the most common form. I’m short-limbed, with a torso the size of an average-height person. Each person with dwarfism is impacted differently, but I have a curvature of the spine (it’s S-shaped) and inflammation of the hips. I used to have regular check-ups to ensure none of my internal organs were being crushed too.
I also experienced sleep apnoea (where your breathing stops and starts while you’re asleep) but have outgrown that. Now, my height is 3ft 11in.
Initially I accepted my condition, but during my teens, I longed to be the same as everybody else.
I was the only person in my town with dwarfism, despite my condition affecting around one in every 25,000 people,* and I have experienced bullying. At secondary school, I just wanted to look like my friends and worried about what my future might look like. I had no one in the media to look up to. I didn’t meet another person like me until I was 13, when I attended a Little People UK† event. Walking in was overwhelming. For the first time in my life, I was taller than someone!
Nowadays, my physical health is good, but the world isn’t designed for people with dwarfism, and that can be exhausting. When I moved away to attend university, my friends came over to see my new flat. They all clamoured over the views, but my thoughts were more along the lines of “Can I reach the lights?” and “Will I be able to turn the shower on?” Those seemingly small issues can add up.
My independence is so important to me, but I’m more comfortable asking for help now too. Things like opening bottles can be a challenge, as my hands are smaller, so I’ll ask a friend if they wouldn’t mind stepping in.
I choose not to base my self-worth on my height. I’ve completed two degrees, competed in national dance competitions, and have an incredible circle of friends. We don’t discuss dwarfism very often – not because it’s taboo, but because we don’t need to. I feel accepted and happy with who
I am.