I'm always getting a lot of second looks. People look at me

When Shawn Bradley said, “I’m always getting a lot of second looks. People look at me funny. It’s like, ‘Are you from a different planet?’” he spoke not merely of height or of appearance, but of the ancient experience of the outsider—the one who walks through life set apart, seen but not understood. His words carry the quiet ache of those who do not fit the mold, who move through the crowd as both spectacle and mystery. In this reflection, we hear the echo of countless souls who, by birth or by destiny, stand apart from the ordinary—tall not only in stature, but in difference, in destiny, in the burden of being seen as “other.”

Born towering above most men, Shawn Bradley, one of the tallest players ever to walk the courts of basketball, found himself both admired and alienated. His great height—over seven feet six inches—made him a marvel, but also a target of endless stares, whispers, and wonder. When he speaks of people looking at him as though he were from “a different planet,” it is not boastful exaggeration—it is the confession of one who has lived as a mirror for human curiosity. The second look he speaks of is the double vision of mankind: the first glance of awe, and the second of unease. For difference, whether physical, mental, or spiritual, has always stirred the hearts of men to both admiration and fear.

In the days of the ancients, there was Diogenes, the philosopher who lived in a barrel and defied convention with his simplicity. The people of Athens, clothed in pride and intellect, laughed at him, saying, “You must be mad.” And he replied, “Yes, I am mad—mad that I see truth and you do not.” Like Bradley, Diogenes was stared at as if he were from another planet, because he dared to live beyond the comfort of sameness. Throughout history, those who have towered—literally or figuratively—have faced this burden of visibility. They remind others of their own smallness, and so they are treated as curiosities, as beings of another realm. Yet, what they truly are, is human magnified—their height or difference only revealing what the world prefers to hide: that uniqueness is the mark of life’s divine design.

To be stared at is to be reminded constantly that you do not blend in. The crowd gazes not to understand, but to compare, to measure their normalcy against your difference. But here lies the power of acceptance—when the one who is seen as alien learns to embrace his strangeness as gift, not curse. Shawn Bradley, though often the subject of jest or disbelief, did not retreat from the world. He played, he served, he lived fully, turning what made him different into what made him inspiring. For the eyes of others may imprison you, but only if you forget that their gaze is powerless without your permission.

It is a strange paradox of humanity that those who are different are first mocked, then marveled at, and finally remembered. The world laughs at what it cannot comprehend, and yet it is from such people that it learns its greatest lessons. From the prophets to the poets, from the visionaries to the giants—both of body and of mind—the story is always the same: they are asked, “Are you from another planet?” And perhaps, in a sense, they are. For they come carrying perspectives, strengths, or gifts that this world has not yet learned to understand.

Let this be a teaching to those who walk their own path: do not curse the second look. Do not shrink because others see you as strange. The eyes that question you today will one day look upon your courage with reverence. You are not from a different planet—you are from the deeper layers of this one, born to show it something it has forgotten. Embrace your height—whether of body, spirit, or imagination—and stand tall not against the crowd, but for it.

So remember, children of the earth: when they stare, let them. When they whisper, smile. For difference is the mark of destiny. The oak does not apologize for being taller than the grass; it simply grows toward the sun. Like Shawn Bradley, who bore his extraordinary form with quiet grace, you too must carry your strangeness with dignity. Walk among men not as alien, but as example. For the truth is this: those who seem to be from another planet are often the very ones sent to remind the world how vast and beautiful humanity can be.