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From: MaryEllen
This is my story...
 
To start with, I am now 45 years old, so that will at least give you a time frame of when I grew up. I fell when I was a year old and broke a leg, which set back my walking for almost a year, which afforded me the opportunity to pile on the weight. I don't know if I would have been so heavy otherwise. My school years were an absolute nightmare, I was always the biggest by a landslide, I was short, but just as wide. I was never popular, always picked last to be on a team, etc. Clothing was impossible, back then there were really no large size stores, and especially not ones for kids. I remember a period when my mother was having dresses made for me. One of the outstanding events I can remember was in the fifth grade they wheeled the scale into the classroom to weigh everyone, and I was dying a thousand deaths - and I weighed 165 at 10 years old, probably almost 100lbs more than all the other kids. I remember everyone laughing at me, and to this day cannot believe adults could inflict this kind of trauma on a
child. What were they thinking? I sometimes am amazed that I made it through school and college. I never went to the prom or any other dance, and in general was a big joke to all.


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From: Anonymous
This is my story...
 
I had thin and fat years as a child but I never was anything but plump, never severely overweight, however this was enough in the third grade to save me from endless teasing. Boys would trip me as I walked back to my seat at the back of the class, and I was picked on constantly without fail. I was also very tall and large, the tallest in the class including all the boys. I got picked on for being tall as much as for being overweight. One day, in third grade, I left for school, I saw my friend Loan for a while but then she had to go to her class, on my way in a group of three boys started to harass me, calling me name after name....fatty two by four, Amazon, Earthquake girl, Piggy, Fatso etc. They shoved me and pushed me but I managed to get away! I remember feeling as a kid....I cant take this anymore.

I will say the affect of this abuse on my self esteem had long ranging effects.

That day all morning for some reason the class was ragging on me all day. I was very quiet would yell at them to shut up but to no avail. The teachers never helped, they treated me as though I deserved the abuse and even with admonishments from my parents they never took action against the constant barrage I faced.

For some reason that day, I couldn't take it anymore! I went to a small Catholic school and we had cloakrooms instead of lockers. The teacher left the room because a classmate had a terrible nosebleed. The other kids started in with their insults and I LOST IT! These insults centered on taking my lunch away and making me lose weight for my own good.

I ran into the cloakroom to get away from them and I started smashing their bagged lunches taking them out of backpacks and the like, we had no cafeteria either and I started yelling if I could eat lunch neither could they! I started smashing lunches and apples and sandwiches went flying. Then some classmates ran in. I started punching and fighting. The fight moved out into the classroom. I was so angry some kids were running! Remember I was also the largest kid in the class. I punched one boy in the jaw and knocked his twin sister to the floor! I scratched and kicked and even drew blood on a few kids with fingernails! I was totally going ballistic! I literally fought around 8-9 kids at once. I remember being so angry that there was no time for fear! The thing that was so shocking about this later to teachers is I was known as a quiet teachers pet!

The teacher came running in and was literally in shock at the disarray of her classroom. I got dragged down to the principals office where I stayed for around an hour while they contacted my mother at work.
The principle who was a nun lectured me about restraining my anger and I ignored her. After all she had let my torture continue. I was suspended for at least three days in the third grade! My mother came in, her and the principle talked about transferring me to another class and my mother told her off.

I wasn't punished because my brother and sister had told my mother of the daily abuse I had taken! My parents felt bad for me more than likely. My own brother had to fight constantly to be let alone. My parents considered transferring me to another school or at least asking for a transfer to another class. I did end up at the school. I think I may have been transferred.

It scares me because looking at photos from that time, I am maybe 25lbs overweight if that, and also very tall, far from what would be termed obese. But since I was the heaviest in the class, I was the target.
Later a heavier girl would join the class and I remember feeling relieved! She took the brunt of abuse, I would defend her at times but we were both hopelessly outnumbered. 20 years later I would see her photo in Parade magazine, it was her because it was the name of our community and I recognized her face and name talking about how she had become an anorexic and almost died in her high school years. I had moved to another state by that time! I understood why having seen her abuse.

I did have some thin years as a child. 1-2 grade I was thin and 3-4 I was fat. Starting in 5th I lost a bunch of weight and then I was fat again in the 6th for a short while and then thin again in the 7th. My treatment changed drastically with the weight. Later I would be prepared for this in adulthood where I spend years being averagely plump and then getting to the supersizes.

School can be hell on a fat kid. There is no doubt of that. Even fat boys got beat up all the time in my school. I remember a game which had a very awful disgusting name....called "Smear the Queer". I remember two larger boys in my class coming in with busted up faces and black eyes. This actually got so out of control, our principle had to cancel recess for a month!

But overall the fat kids abuse is almost mandated. Fat kids at least when I was in school never got a break and the teachers never disciplined the other kids. We were told just to lose weight. I did from time to time but the years where I was fat did affect me badly. I know this made me a more introverted person then I otherwise would have been. I also distrust groups overall. I know kids who fight back usually get treated better. After I had this huge blowout, I did buy some peaceful time for myself. But its sad state of affairs that any child should have to live like that!


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From: Eva
This is my story...
 
In elementary school I was teased relentlessly -- I wasn't very overweight, and the subject of the teasing wasn't my weight, but I was a target because of it. But in Jr. High and High School I developed many friendships, including with guys. In high school I began to gain lots of weight, and weighed between 180-190 lbs In my senior year (I'm 5'1"). Right before Thanksgiving, I was complaining out loud in front of my English teacher and some of my friends about how fat I looked in my homecoming dance picture (it was a very unflattering dress and angle, but now I think I looked healthy & glowing) , and my teacher began to rail on about how I had to lose weight before I went to college, or I would never have a life. I would never have a boyfriend, I wouldn't have any social life, I would never find happiness. It was at least a half an hour lecture, and in front of my friends, who were thin. After this lecture, I ran off in tears, and my friends were no help, they told me she was just saying those things for my own good.
In the end, I met my first "real" boyfriend about a month after I started college, and that relationship lasted for 2 and a half years. I had many more boyfriends and sexual affairs than my skinnier friends from high school, and I met my husband when I was 22 -- and I've been married for 8 and a half years, I have a great job, we just bought a house last year. All in all, I would say that my English teacher was wrong.


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From: Lee
This is my story...
 
I was a fat kid and I am a fat adult. (27.) For a brief but oh-so-amazing period in junior high, after I went to camp and played tennis and walked everywhere and rode horses and swam twelve hours a day, I was what everyone seemed to consider, slender. Then high school happened. In grade school and later on as a sophomore, I never joined clubs. I walked the halls with my head down, not wanting to meet anyone's eyes because I took up more space than the Levi's girls, the ones with the sleek size 2's that would fit only one of my legs and the Izod shirts that hung straight and clean over bellies that didn't pooch, not even a little bit. I didn't play sports because fat girls didn't play sports. I was in band because there were fat kids coming out of the woodwork in band. The true love of my life (sorry, husband of three years, also fat and very lovable) was, and is, books. The only gripe I have with books: Where are the fat spies? Where are the fat sexy princesses? The fat cops, portrayed in a good light? The fat righters of wrongs, exposers of evil, vindicators? The fat *anyone* not drawn as a lazy, corrupted, sneering s.o.b. with only one thing on his/her mind - cheeseburgers? Every heroine I meet in a book - sooner or later, she looks in a mirror, or gets described by another character, and she's...not fat. She's got blond hair, or raven-black hair, or blue or brown or flashing purple eyes, and she's got a taut toned finely honed lanky tall slender boned graceful Olympic take-me-now-or-I'll-pull-the-pin-on-this-grenade type of body.

I am beginning a book - not reading this time. Writing. My book shall be interesting, stylish, twisty, dangerous, insightful, suspenseful, full of nooks and crannies. Just like me. And my book shall have a fat heroine. Just like me.


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From: Teacher
This is my story...
 
School has been the best part of my life and the worst. I am 30 and still going five days a week, but on the other side of the desk. I learned my worth at home. I was raised to be strong, smart and independent. I was raised to be thin. I am not. School took everything good about me and squashed it in a tiny desk. Imagine being tall and fat and riding three to a seat in a school bus. I can hardly get my legs in when I am alone. Desks with attached chairs have always been a nightmare. Even as a middle schooler I never fit in the seat quite right. Tiny lockers and little knit gym suits did not make me happy. The year I decided to try out for basketball I warmed the bench. Pull-ups and the parallel bars made me want to throw up. Needless to say I became a shadow of a girl, quiet and shy. Walking with my head down. I worked to pass through life without imposing myself on anyone. I was pushed, shoved, elbowed and yelled obscenities at. I still am. Everyday I walk through a cafeteria filled with middle school kids. Who laugh and snicker behind their hands about my being fat. I wish that someone has taken my had during puberty and told me to put my head up and smile. Reminded me that I was smart and beautiful. No one did. So everyday I go to middle school trying to get it right, trying to make sure that no child grows-up with the hate that grown-ups show to children and children take to school. Being fat is not wrong; it is part of who I am. If I could I would still trade that away to be thin, but I can’t so I am learning to live with it. Everyday, every new town, every new job as I teach people to love me the woman and the girl that lives inside and is fat too.


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From: Anonymous
This is my story...
 
According to my pediatrician, I was always five to ten lbs. overweight since the age of seven.
I didn't suffer too much humiliation until Jr. High, when I weighed in 25 lbs. over the
weight charts. The "tub of lard" comment was the one most often thrown at me. But my worst
experience during my school years (and now at age 41 it still bothers me), was when I was in
my Junior year of high school. It was my "fattest" year of all school years. I probably was
about 190 or so, and close to the end of the year I was auditioning for the Madrigals singing
group for my senior year. I wanted to get into that group so bad, and I practiced and practiced
very hard to sing as best as I could. A lot of people were cheering me on that year, and kept
telling me I had the best alto voice compared to the other girls trying out. Well, that was
all well and good, except for one thing. The teacher didn't like fat chicks too much and
had no intention of having one in his special little singing group. So he invited me to the
call backs to throw me off the track, and then of course picked another girl who didn't sing
half as good as I did for the part. To make it even worse, he asked me to come to the choir
room during the announcement of the "winners" when I was in another class. I had to get
special permission to leave my class to go over there, only to hear the grim news - that I
hadn't made the group. All day the loud speaker kept repeating the "winners" names over and
over again, and I just felt physically ill. I went home and cried for hours.
At the end of my senior year, a fat girlfriend of mine who was a junior tried out for the
Madrigals and GOT IN! But she had an edge. Her parents were in the Music Boosters club
and donated a lot of money to the Music Dept. of the High School. Well, I guess you
have to have something extra going for you in this life when your fat. It usually isn't good
enough to just be talented. I learned that the hard way.


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From: Cat
This is my story...
 
My first memory about this was in the early side of grade school when I was pulled out of class a the beginning of every year to go down to the nurses office to get weighed. Of course, only the fat kids were called down to the office at that time. I suspect that at the beginning of every year, the teachers were asked who in their classes were *too* fat or *too* thin. This went on for a couple of years and I was always embarrassed to get weighed, especially in front of the other fat kids who were also in the nurses room. I can recall the coldness of the room and the pepto colored couches on either side of the room. Towards one side of the room was the entrance to the actual office of the nurse. Some years, the weighing was done in the nurse's office, but with the door open, and a couple of times the scale was in the room with the two couches while the other children watched. The looks on all of the kids' faces were horrible. I think we all knew why we were there from the moment we entered the room. Of course back in the classroom, the kids in the room also knew that the fat kids were being taken out to the *pasture*. The didn't know what was going on, of course, but they knew that we were different and completely unacceptable by societal standards. What a way to alienate the fat kids, eh?
Long about 4th grade, I had finally understood that the power of refusing to do something that I wasn't comfortable doing. My mom had always told me that, good thing to know, eh? Anyway, that year I took an empowering stand and refused to be weighed by the nurse. She was dumbfounded. Aghast too. A combination of the two, most likely. Poor Ms. Perazino had lost her power over me. What was really cool was that when I refused, other kids refused too. YAY! It was a great moment. Ya had to be there. ;-)
I believe that in years following that I was still called down, but I don't believe they ever requested me to step on the scale again.
Come junior high, not only was I called down to the nurses office at one point, but they contacted my mum and called a public health nurse to come to visit my home during the summer months. The public health nurse came to see me and my mom to talk about food portions, etc. I remember thinking that the little rubber half cup of baked beans seemed like a little amount...I guess I was a baked bean nut back then. She also during her visit asked me to step on the scale. I refused. I think she wanted my mom to force me on the scale, but instead she supported me in the decision. Way to go mom! (On a side note, my mom was fairly thin all of her life...she hovered between size 10 and 14 most of the time. When she was ill I believe she got up to a size 20...nowhere near to my size.) Anyway, that refusal was another victory for me and my wee self esteem.
In high school I was contacted one time about my weight by the nurse. A huge issue was not made of my weight...that I knew of...

Long about 19 years old when I was taking care of my ailing mother (she died of emphysema related complications when I was 20...), my mom and I talked about a lot of things that she normally protected me against. She spoke one time about the calls she would get from the high school nurse and counselor about my weight. I had no idea they even contacted her at that time. Anyway, the counselor and/or nurse made comments to her that I would "never amount to anything" and "never have a *normal* social life" or life at all unless I lost weight. What was really curious about it in retrospect was that I had a very active social life, I was involved in a ton of after school activities, I was the editor of the high school yearbook, I was the treasurer then president of the Thespians, I helped start the video yearbook, I had a decent grade point average, etc, etc, etc. This was in a school of 2,100 kids, so no small feat to be accomplished with so many others waiting to fill in the gaps. What were they basing this diatribe upon? Their own failings in life that they blindly based upon one's weight? Anyway, I'm sure as a mother she hated to hear those things. I felt bad for her when she told me....to basically be told that she had failed as a mother 'cuz I would be such an unproductive citizen when I left the school. What a horrible thing to hear on the other end of the phone, eh? I felt so bitterly angry at the Stillwater School district for doing that and believing their own diatribes so much that they would call parents and harass them. How simply wrong they were.
[


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From: ashamed of my body
This is my story...
 
I wake up every morning hoping something would be different. I go to the bathroom and look at myself with pity. As I get ready I think about the awful comments from the day before. Just the typical name "fatty" is horrible makes me want to die.
I walk to school and try to ignore the staring and whispering that goes on right in front of my eyes. I arrive at school to no friends and no one to talk to. I watch the other girls giggle to their boyfriend wondering what that would be like.
As the day goes on, lunch comes. I wait in line trying to decide from the big selection of food. More people stare at me as I get more food then an average kid but I'm use to it. I sit isolated from the others and eat my food waiting for lunch to be over. It's a half an hour lunch which seems like an hour and a half. I finish eating after about 10 minutes thinking, "I shouldn't have eaten that, I'm just going to get more fat!"
the day finishes and I think to myself, "aww, I completed another day. Tomorrow will be different!" But really think its going to be the same like always.


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From: Maura
This is my story...
 
I started to get heavy at around the age of nine. I remember that when I moved to a new town things really started to get bad as far as teasing was concerned. It was 1990 -- and I remember getting on the school bus, all excited because it was the last day of school before Xmas. The boys in the back of the bus were singing the New Kid's on the Block song, "Hangin' tough." The last line of the song is "you know it aint over till the fat lady sings!" After singing this, the boys yelled to me...hey Maura -- you're cue! The bus roared with laughter and I felt hot tears rolling down my cheeks. The harassment continued throughout middle school where I would spend each lunch period in the bathroom stall bawling my eyes out because the kids in my grade would moo at me when I walked into a classroom. Eventually I stopped raising my hand and kept my mouth shut in school...I would come home each day and lie on my bed and cry. When I hit high school the teasing got worse and I decided I wasn't going to take it anymore. I went on a crash diet and lost 70 lbs. Because I lost the weight so quickly I now have horrible circulation in my hands and feet. I have managed to keep the weight off but I am obsessed with how I look. Everywhere I go I feel like I am the fattest person in the room. I feel like no man will ever love me because of how disgusting my body is (I weigh 135 and am 5'6). I run every day and follow a strict diet. As of now I am a size 9, but I still feel like I look about a size 16! I weigh myself about 4 times a day and if I gain even a TENTH of a pound my week is ruined. My obsession about my weight is totally unhealthy. I became bulimic last year (my sophomore year in college) and have been making myself throw up on and off since then. My digestive system is a wreck from my abuse of laxatives. I also started chain smoking cigarettes to lose more weight. I hope that one day I can come to terms with my weight. I still feel the pain of being tormented as a child and I know that my whole life I will still feel like a "fat slob" because that's what I was labeled as a kid. Throughout high school I tried to commit suicide about 4 times. I am happier now, but I know that my obsession with how I look and my unhealthy attitude about my weight are not going to leave any time soon. I'm now in therapy and working to kick the bulimia. I wanted to share my story because even though I suffered a great deal as a "fat kid" I am trying to turn my life around and learn to love myself for who I am.


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From: smarty
This is my story...
 
For some strange reason gym teachers are unmerciful to overweight kids. I remember my fourth grade P.E teacher saying to in disgust...''Cathy, you're just so slow" like it was a vice I had. One time while my classmates and I were all in line, cutting up, laughing and talking, he singled me out and
said..''shut your big fat mouth'' All the boys laughed, hooped and hollered,
and the girls just looked at me with pity.....I wanted to die and fade away
...By the time ninth grade came....I had starved myself by eating one
Popsicle a day and riding my bike 2 miles. I have no idea why I did not end
up in the hospital. Anyway, with my new slender body in tow, I entered high
school, not prepared for all the attention the upper classmen gave me. I
relish in the next four years of dates, parties, and cool clothes. I married
my high school sweet heart, gained most of the weight back, after our first
child was born. Today I am close to 300 pounds and miserable, but there is
hope because I am exercising everyday and feeling


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From: Leah K. Palmer
This is my story...
 
I was walking home from middle school one day.
We had small wooded area across from the school and there
was a bridge across a small stream. Some kids that had
always tortured me for being fat were waiting for me there
and stuck burrs in my shoulder length hair. They also punched me,
kicked me and knocked me down and ran off laughing, calling me names
as they left. I ran back to the school, but it was no use.
My hair had to be cut short. It was one of the worst experiences of
my life. I also had my face shoved into snow banks and had my glasses
broken. I'm still fat, but healthy. I'm not obsessed
with my weight, but I do hike, bike, and try to play tennis when I can find a partner
, because I have a hard time sitting still. Also, I'm happy now :)


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From: Big Girl Mary
This is my story...
 
I never really thought about my weight until one of my classmates in high school pointed out that I did not have a flat stomach. I never even knew that was something to concerned about. The funny thing was, looking back I wasn't fat. I was strong and athletic, running track and playing tennis. However I was larger than my classmates at that age and that was the problem. I did have a small belly and even my friends would point that out and poke me like the Pillsbury Dough Boy.

The worst day was one of our track meets; one of the girls had forgotten her shorts. Since I did not have to run until later I loaned her mine. Well she was very thin and as she ran around the track the shorts began falling down and she had to hold on with one hand. The coaches thought it was hysterical- I'm sure it was but not to me.

As a result all throughout high school I wouldn't go shopping because I knew that I was too fat to wear nice clothes. I wouldn't attend any regular dances or the prom or other school events because I knew I wouldn't look good in a dress, and because I wouldn't go shopping, didn't have any decent clothes. I wore jeans and sweatpants.

At home my mother wore a size 6 and constantly fretted about her weight. Her siblings were all larger than her and she was always trying to be thinner and then claiming that they held it against her. She would bake brownies, cookies, and cake- and then sample a tiny corner- and then offer me the entire painful. She continued that on through my college years, playing on my now-ingrained paranoia of fat and appearance and my simultaneous longing for the comfortable and familiar.

I went from a healthy size 11 in high school- not fat at all- to years and years of bulimia and compulsive eating. I still won't go shopping and now the dread of going to school has been replaced by the dread of going to work. I see all the thin women in their stylish clothes and I can't speak. I just go to my computer and stay there all day. I dread being anywhere in public, and fantasize about 'running away'-just hopping on a greyhound and leaving. The sad part is, I know that I would still feel the same wherever I ended up.


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From: Julianne
This is my story...
 
I remember on the evening of the annual Christmas concert in third grade, I had gotten ready and was eager to sing carols with my class in front of the entire school. My mom had hand-sewn me a long red dress with sequins on it, she had put my hair up, and I wore a gold necklace. When I had looked in the mirror at home, I really thought I looked pretty that night. But when I walked into my classroom just before the concert, the entire class of kids howled with laughter at me! What was so funny about the way I looked, I wondered. Maybe part of the reason was that I rarely ever wore dresses to school, I usually dressed like a tomboy. But I know the main reason was that at age 9 I weighed about 115 pounds. I don't know how I managed it, but I went ahead and sang with my class. I was used to being laughed at, so it was nothing new. Anyway, today I am a 31-year-old mother of two beautiful little girls, who so far do NOT have weight problems. I am normal-weight today, about 140 pounds- less than I weighed in the fifth grade. If either of my girls do develop a weight problem, I will pull them out of school and home-school them. I want them to grow up feeling good about themselves and valued as special people, because I wasn't. If anything good came out of being overweight as a kid, it is that I accept all people and try not to judge them based on appearance.


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From: Not Porkchop
This is my story...
 
It started around third grade, after I got my cast off. There is so much to tell about my experience in grade school, but I will try to keep it short, just to give you an idea of the torment I went through.
~Running the track for gym, some kids would run behind and beside me calling, "Come on Pork chop!"
~Our classes had to walk in a line down the hall, and a girl walking beside me told me to watch out for the hippo behind me (referring to my butt).
~When playing jump rope, they would make me twirl the rope because if I jumped I would go through the floor.
~When playing kick ball, the ball went into the woods, and they made me go get it. The ball hit a sharp stick and was deflated, so they blamed me and said I must have sat on it.
~My best friend, (who was also my cousin) stuck up for me sometimes, but she too chimed in sometimes, because I'm sure she didn't like going against everyone else all the time, and I oddly understood that.
~ On a field trip, we stopped at McDonald's for lunch. Two girls asked me to sit by them, so I was excited, and eagerly did. One of them asked if I wanted her hamburger, and I told her "no thanks." She started breaking off small pieces of it and threw it across the table at me. I perceived this as sort of a game, so I did the same to her. She immediately blew up, grabbed her remaining hamburger and smeared it into my face. (I think it was because she wanted to show the other classmates what would happen when "the fat girl" messed with her) I ran to the bathroom to clean it off, and when I got back I took a sip of my pop, which they had poured salt and pepper in. They sat around laughing at my disgusted face, and I was so embarrassed.
~There was a bridge on our playground that you could walk on, or under, and while I was walking under, some kids would spit on my head.
~When I was swinging on the swings, some girls came up behind me and grabbed my legs as I was going up, so I nearly fell over.
~The end of fourth grade there was a new girl in school. Towards the end of the year we started calling each other, and by the time summer came, we were inseparable. When the phone rang, it was always her, and I was ALWAYS on the phone with her. She called me once, at the end of the summer, 6 days before school started. She had been talking to some of the other girls at our school, and all she told me was "don't ever call me again, and don't tell anyone I talked to you this summer. It never happened." I think that's what hurt the most out of everything.
~ I remember sitting in the bathroom, on the counter, holding a bottle of aspirin, debating. I wanted to just down them, and end everything. I did this numerous times, and if I wasn't so afraid, I know I would have done it.
~Numerous times, while being harassed, I would tell the teachers, and they would either tell me, "if it happens again, let me know." or they would talk to the kid and say, "Now that wasn't very nice, don't let it happen again." which of course didn't help. No serious action was ever taken.
~My parents were usually pretty supportive, and they would tell if the teachers wouldn't do anything, then just punch the kid in the nose, teach them a lesson. Well, I was always much too afraid to do this until one day I just didn't think about it. This girl was sitting behind me in music class and was pulling my hair. I turned around and told her to stop. She continued. I told her again, and again she continued. Finally I turned around and back handed her right across the face. We were both sent to the principal's office. My parents came to school the next day and told the principal just what was going on, and he suspended the girl and I was given no punishment.

I eventually had to go to the school board and request a transfer. I had to write them a letter, because I was staying in north Dakota at the time. My parents represented me at the meeting and gave them the letter. I was told that many of the members were in tears, and all were touched. It's just sad that they wouldn't do anything before, they hear stories like this, and they cry, but they still don't do anything. It was too late for me, but not for the others still going through that. I was granted the transfer, and open enrolled at the public school in a neighboring town. The bus was not allowed to go outside the district, so I had to walk a half a mile to the nearest bus stop before and after school. The first year it was really hard to adjust. I was paranoid of everyone, and was always assuming every laugh was about me, which of course was not true. I am now a junior in the high school, and am far from an outcast. I have many friends, and am included in all the parties and conversations. Although there are occasionally some assholes, most people in my school look down on them for it. When I look back to how things used to be, I feel so pathetic, like how could I just let them do that to me? It has not made me stronger, like most people might think, but instead, weaker, because every little weight comment brings me back to the pain I used to feel, and it resurfaces. Losing weight seems so easy, and because of that I get so mad at myself sometimes for not just doing it, but the more mad I get, the less it helps, so I have decided to just be me, and if I lose weight, great, if not, oh well.


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From: Anonymous
This is my story...
 
When I was a kid, I had it rough. I was tall, but overweight. I had lots of friend, but people were mean to me. Kids would say I was fat, and then ask me how much I weighed. I didn't answer, all I could do was get out of everyone and just cry. I remember a couple stories that I can relate to. Most things happened in 6th grade. I just moved and made many new friends. Starting a middle school is hard. The eight graders would pick on me and say mean things. Once, an eight grader was walking by my locker and said, "how's your diet going Fat girl!" and then in gym, we were running and doing tumbling. A 7th grader saw me running around and telling people I had packs of blubber. I soon found out when a 6th grader not from my classes says, "Hey tubby! 7th graders are saying your packs of blubber shake when you run! They saw you in gym with your stomach shaking. You are the sickest fattest kid I've ever seen." This all happened the same day. I never felt so humiliated and sad in my life.
When I finally got into 7th grade, I gained about 20lbs. The kids started calling me blub blubly tubbers. That's kind of stupid but really true. Everyone started asking how I weighed. I told them how much, and they spread it around the 7th grade.
Finally my dance recital came. My costume was a short top and a biker shorts bottom. We did a performance for my school and another school. My "so called" friends said my stomach shook the whole time, and that I had sags sticking out. Soon I dumped my friends.
That is my story of my middle school years. I had a hard time in school, but the best part is, I liked who I was, and I didn't care what anyone thought of me.


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From: Genifra
This is my story...
 
I hope this will be cathartic, as I've shoved these memories back pretty far. I was pretty chubby in elementary school, but I generally had a lot of friends. There were, of course, jerks that teased me. One day after school, I got beat up by two of them. That was a horrible day. I don't even remember why it happened. But P.E. was the worst. I could never climb the rope; I just tried for a couple seconds and then quit. The teacher didn't push me. When we ran the mile, I knew I'd be last. That's a humiliating feeling, knowing that everyone's been sitting there at the finish line for several minutes, waiting for you--and then when they try to be supportive, cheering you on, you only abhor their pity. Things weren't that great at home either. When the neighbor kids would insult me, right to my face with my dad standing right there, my dad wouldn't do or say anything. He never stood up for me, and I hated him for that. I guess I still do. I still don't trust him at all.
But life became hell in junior high. My friends abandoned me; I was alone. I couldn't fit into all the cool clothes, the Guess jeans. My weight ballooned. Once again, I dreaded gym class. Even now, I sometimes dream about that panic that would haunt me all day. When we ran around the block, my tight shorts would constantly ride up because my legs were so fat, and I'd be pulling them down as people laughed at me -- girls I thought were somewhat friendly to me. I remember one day, I was walking down the hall to class, and this girl (blond hair, thick glasses, I forget her name) said, Hurry up, fatso! I felt like a knife had been shoved in my chest, it hurt that bad. I somehow survived the day, but when I got into the car after school, I just sobbed. I had few if no friends, and didn't believe the gifted child teachers when they told me I was smart and could write. All I did was listen to heavy metal and fantasize about killing myself.
So the next year, I left the public school system and went to a private school. Which, I can honestly say, was the best move of my life. My life's never been the same. Found amazing friends, went to a great college, now I'm a journalism who *knows* I'm a good writer. Still struggle with weight, and always will--but I'm ok.


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From: Fat Me
This is my story...
 
I have been fat as long as can remember. My weight wasn't much as an issue at school until 6th grade, but junior high was the worst. I had only a few friends, but only for a short time. I felt very alone. The hatred of others for me because of my size, looks, and disability, was so strong that at times it seemed that I could feel and smell it, taste it's bitterness. Constant harassment, including sexual harassment, threats, and physical abuse filled many days before, during and after school. When I told my parents about what was going on at school they either laughed and told me that I deserved it for being the way I was, or just said to ignore it. Even though I felt bad about myself, wishing to be thin, I mainly got more and more angry. In 9th grade I started to fight back some, but wasn't very successful because there were to many of them and they were able to take advantage of my disability. The school wasn't willing to do anything to help until I told a counselor that I felt like killing some of the other kids. (I thought that I might lose control and go to far in defending myself one day, but I didn't really want to hurt anyone. But mostly I wanted to get them to realize that they couldn't ignore it anymore.) Although I assured her that I was not planning to do anything, and did not have access to weapons, the possibility of thin and nondisabled kids getting hurt really got the schools attention. They did tell the other kids not to bother me anymore, not because they though I deserved to be treated better, but for their own good. The counselor even asked what I would do without the abuse, as if I really needed and wanted it. But I was happy to be without it anyway.



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From: Elizabeth
This is my story...
 
I have always felt different. The feelings were bad at first especially during high school. I was a large person (and still am) but I had people call me name like hippo, fatso, lard, etc. but I took it. I had all my life. I did hate going to school, though. There was one instance I had a girl to ask me if I had sex yet. I told her no and she responded saying "What, no one can get between those fat legs of yours,"
I didn't respond to the taunt but walked away feeling bad.
But the good news is that they people who did taunt me asked me to forgive them, and of course I did. I even had one guy, who picked on me a great deal, call me up one night and ask me to forgive him. I told him that of course I forgave him.
I don't like holding grudges against people, it makes me feel rotten. I enjoy life to the fullest, doing things that I like to do. I am in college now, going for my second degree. I enjoy school now and I want to learn.


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From: Discovering
This is my story...
 
For as long as I can remember I have been unhappy and have hated my body. Well, I guess when I was ten years old, I used to cry myself to sleep every night. Every morning I would wake up and look at my thighs and hope for them to be smaller, thinner, more beautiful. When I was eleven I started to cut back what I ate. First I skipped breakfast and then I began to forgo lunch. Finally, I was becoming thin! I started to make excuses to my family for not eating dinner. I lost a lot of weight until I became a mere skeleton of what I once was. The following year in school, things started to change for me I became very popular and had a boyfriend and was invited to all the cool parties. I started eating again with my friends and felt "normal". The weight slowly crept back on until I was bigger that I had been a year ago. High school was a constant fight with anorexia and bulimia and suicidal thoughts/attempts. From the outside, I looked like a happy, healthy, smart girl. Inside I was falling apart. In my final year of high school things started to change for the better. I began to like who I was and take pride in my many accomplishments. My weight remained at a comfortable, healthy level. I went away to University on a full scholarship as a happy and healthy woman with a wonderful boyfriend. It wasn't until my second year when I broke up with my boyfriend that I started gaining weight and eating compulsively again. I was in a very high stress program and constantly turned to food for comfort. To compensate for all the food I was eating, I was making myself throw up 5-10 times per day, every day. I ripped up my entire GI track and created scars on my hands and mouth. I was actually still gaining weight though, because of the large quantities of food I was consuming. I met a wonderful man at the peak of my weight gain, which provided me with enough incentive to lose weight. Things got worse: I would eat scarely all day and if I did eat I would make myself throw it up. I kept losing the weight until I weighted under 90lb at 5'6. I could barely go to work anymore I was so weak. I finally got counseling, in order to gain weight, and more importantly to learn to love myself no matter what I weigh. I now work very hard at loving every aspect of myself, including my body... even when I don't fit into the bikinis that all my friends are wearing. I am me, and I make a contribution to the variety of talents and personalities the world has to offer. My life does not require me to be thin... just healthy. I wish that I had of sought help earlier, when I was bigger, to save my body a lot of hardship. Compulsive Eating is a disorder, whether you are 100lb or 300lb. There are people that can help the constant obsession with food. If you think about food/weight all the time love yourself just enough to seek help to learn to really love yourself.


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From: Elizabeth
This is my story...
 
I always had a "weight problem" (I was Fat) from the time I was around 2 1/2 years old. My sister, was seven years older was very tall and thin, and thought everyone should be like her, so from a very young age (4 or so) I was very aware that I was socially unacceptable and a source of embarrassment for my family because I was FAT. When I went to kindergarten at 5, this was so ingrained, that I sucked in my stomach when they took my school picture. I didn't understand that the picture was just of my chest and head. Actually it turned out to be a pretty cute picture.

The most outstandingly negative year in my life was the fourth grade with Mrs. Osborne. She was fairly elderly at that time and wore orthopedic shoes. I'm sure she was a kind, good person in her way, but she was first class busy body. We were studying about means and medians and averages in math and there was a problem in the book for getting the average of your classes height. Well you guessed it, she decided (probably for the first time in her life!) that "going by the book" was not good enough. We were going to get the average of our classes weight! Luckily she did not drag a scale in, and being in a small private school we did not have a real nurse's office, so we were allowed to weigh at home and record our weights in class. I will say, she allowed me to be the one who stood up in front and called the roll so I didn't have to shout out my weight to everyone, but of course there was a lot of snickering, jokes etc. And of course I lied by about 20 pounds...I can't believe that she thought this little play would fool anyone. She just had to know how much I weighed...did she so underestimate me as to think I would actually tell the truth?
There were many other episodes...including her periodically checking my sack lunch to make sure I didn't have any fried chicken with gravy and chocolate cream pie in there. This was, of course, done in front of the whole class.

My life at school was full of these episodes. Can you imagine the temptation, when around 5 or 10 years ago, I received a letter from the alumni association saying that the wonderful Mrs. Osborne was finally retiring after years and years and we were going to present her with a book of memories from her former students. They asked that everybody send in a small blurb of something they remembered about her. It was so tempting, even though I knew they would never print it. But by that time I had started to realize that unless you let go of the anger, it continues to hurt you. Sometimes I wonder what I would be like if I hadn't been FAT. Certainly I would have been very different. By the way, my sister and I are finally friends at the ages of 43 and 50. She has expressed to me in many ways and times her regret for her part in my misery. Also, I wanted to say that I never told my parents about these experiences until much later. Now I know they would have been in the headmasters office in a minute, but I never gave them the chance to stand up for me. I guess I thought I deserved to be treated in that way because I was FAT. Kind of Like being born black in the deep south...


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From: Alice
This is my story...
 
I grew up in Rhode Island and the local zoo had an elephant named "Alice". Needless to say I was called "Alice the Elephant" or Alice the Palace, big fat Alice. This was hurtful and at first I would go home and cry and later I struck back at those who made fun of me by fighting. I am now 46 years old and relatively thin 5'8" 144 lbs. but to this day if anyone looks at me I think they are laughing at me because I'm fat. The scars never go away!


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From: Gabi
This is my story...
 
I guess mine is a "good" fat kid story...at 5'5" and about 200 lbs, I guess I was big. But it never really bothered me...no one ever made fun of me, and if they did, it was behind my back, and if I caught wind of it, I just thought, "Oh well, they're just jealous." And I had reason to say that...
In High School, I, one of the "fat kids" was captain of two cheerleading squads, on our schools competing color guard (which, mind you, wore cute, tight, WHITE uniforms) and in three separate, competing, by audition only choir groups (yes, the fat lady does sing!!). All of the groups I was in had critical audition processes to go through, and not only did I land a spot on all of them, I was captain for the cheerleading squad and for the large choir group. PLUS, I was dating the hottest guy on the hockey team...it was wonderful!
So just remember that even if you are "fat," it's all how you carry yourself. I never, ever let my weight get a hold of me. I carried myself with my head high, and wearing the "cool" clothes. I had a HUGE network of friends, and I was my own person. It made me even more confident than ever, and now I'm on my way to success in college...I'm in a sorority and I've joined the University's color guard. HOLD YOUR HEADS UP PROUD!


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From: anonymous
This is my story...
 
Imagine this. You are at the front blackboard. You are fourteen and FAT! Why did that nun put me here anyway? All the boys are snickering as only fourteen year old boys can. I know it. I hate it. I wipe down the blackboard when I am through, but it is not good enough for Sister X. She scornfully tells me that laziness is probably why I am so fat. Today I am seventy-five years old, but that day is still with me.
P.S. I'm still a large lady.


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From: Anonymous
This is my story...
 
I am over 50 years old and this is the first time I have had the courage to put these feelings in actual words. Something happened between my first and second grade years in school. I became "fat". I lived in a very rural area and went to an extremely small school, and the teasing was unbearable. One of the memories that stands out the most happened in the fourth grade. Our teacher was a very critical, unlikable person. She was married, but had no children and didn't even like children I don't think. At the beginning of the year, all students had to be weighed. You can imagine the "sinking" feeling I had the morning I walked into the classroom and saw those scales. The teacher decided that it would be fun to see which row of students weighed the most. Of course, you can imagine the comments made by the other students--"we know which row will win, how could it lose when ??? is sitting on that row", and other hurting comments. I still can't cope with some of the feelings I had back in those days; I just shove them to the back of my mind. As with most "fat" children, I struggled with diets all of my life. My mother was a person of different personalities; one day the supportive loving parent, the next day-one who constantly make comments about how cute the other girls in school were. She would also make snide remarks when I ate a candy bar or some other sweet. The first two years of high school were horrible, but I managed to lose a considerable amount of weight between my sophomore and junior years--thus making my last two years of high school bearable. I never dated any boys from my high school; I think I remembered all of the hateful taunts they had made through the years. I did have dates and was an Honor Student with a very high GPA. I went to the local community college where I thought it was great to live in a dorm room and be out of the every present criticism of my mother. I met my husband and married after one year of college; I could not believe that a football star and very popular guy would want to date me. Neither could several of the girls in college. He was a few years older and a college graduate. He has always been a great guy; but I have always felt like I had to work to deserve him. That is the worse feeling I have today. I always feel as if I have to "earn" everyone's approval by doing "things" for them. I am a successful educator with a Master's Degree and certifications in several areas, but I am still that insecure "fat child" most of the time. It doesn't help that my mother-in-law, my husband's two sisters, and my brother's wife are all model thin and when we are together, all they talk about is the fact that they need to lose weight or about how much they actually weigh. I'm sure this is directed toward me. I wish I could develop that self-esteem I read in some of the stories, but I guess I never will. Thanks for letting me express feeling that are over forty years old.


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From: Anonymous
This is my story...
 
I can't remember if I was a sophomore or a junior in high school, but one day, I was walking through the campus of the college in my town. I don't know why I was there. But, I was walking back towards the bus stop and a group of guys were in the back of a pick-up truck and as they drove past me, they squirted me with a water gun. They were laughing and saying something about getting the fat chick all wet. I remembered thinking that these guys were in *college* and they were acting like that?? Luckily, I never suffered the abuse like others I've read about but the guys in my high school did make it painfully obvious that I wasn't desirable because I was fat. But I figured it would end as the guys got older. However, there I was, on a college campus, being squirted with water by college guys.


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From: theresa
This is my story...
 
As a parent I am submitting this article after an experience my oldest child had in middle school. After coming home from 7th grade one day she told me, "Mom you may be getting a phone call from the school today." Naturally my blood pressure shot up because never had I received a disciplinary phone call about her. She told me the following, of which I am and still so very proud of her today : PE was coed at that large middle school and the students were running their mile. Of course, the heaviest boy was coming in last while the others had well finished the course minutes ahead of him. He was puffing and doing his best to come on in while the others waited on him. Then some students began to get impatient and someone blurted out to the coach, "Well coach, just how much does ------- Weigh?" At that the coach yelled out the student's weight, something like "255!" Of course some kids laughed, etc. but this infuriated my 12 year old daughter and SHE blurted right out to the coach, who needed to lose a few pounds of his own, " Why don't you just tell us YOUR weight coach!" to which this shut him up. She was expecting repercussions from this and I told her she did the right thing and I would be ready and waiting for that phone call, which by the way Never came!!!!! She said she would always make an extra effort to acknowledge him at school so that he would know someone truly cared about him as a human being. I re-tell this story when the subject of "standing up for yourself, or someone else" comes up, or "one of my proudest moments as a mom" story and it gets such wonderful comments you would not believe.
She is now a beautiful 22 year old woman about to graduate from Texas A&M university and still carries that compassion and caring in her heart for others today as she did that tall, gangly school girl she was in middle school in 1991. I have almost thought about submitting this article to the authors of "Chicken soup for the soul". You have my permission to do so if you feel.


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From: Kel
This is my story...
 
I remember 1985 and sitting in my school hallway at lunch time just as if it were yesterday. I was a senior and weighed 198 lbs. I was reading a book at lunchtime sitting in the floor in the upstairs hallway, by myself in front of my locker. I wouldn't eat lunch in the lunchroom with the students, because I didn't want them to see me eating and make comments to me. So, I just took some "junk" from home and ate it upstairs alone. Well, here came 2 guys that were good at making fun of me. One hollered down the hallway at the other, "Hey, what time is it?" The other said, "Well, how am I supposed to know, do I look like Big Ben? Here's Kelly, ask her." Why??? I wasn't bothering anybody, I was by myself. I'm 33 now, heavier than ever and still even as an adult I can see how I'm treated by some of my co-workers.


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From: la la la
This is my story...
 
ok, the heaviest I have been is 275. the thinnest I have been is 147. I am like 183 now. I gained weight again when I went to college...I'm trying to take it off again...In 8th grade I was in pre-Algebra. I sat by this kid named Nieto Ray. He was so terrible to me. I understood I was heavy and needed to gain control, but I couldn't understand why people where so cruel to me. It's not like I was evil in anyway or had killed the Pope. I remember during class one day Nieto Ray told me I was so fat, and that if I died nobody would care. That day I went home and attempted to kill myself. I was put into the hospital for 2 weeks. Yet again, in 9th grade, I got Nieto Ray in my math class again. This time he sat next to me again. He would still say the most cruel things. One day I had enough, and I went to the principle. The principle called in Nieto Ray and told him to stop. Did he? Nooooo. Instead he got his friends to join in when it came to making my life a living hell. I tried to kill myself again. This time I was put into the hospital for a month. I remember walking into class and having people say "here come the heifer." I remember crying in the bathroom, or faking sick so I wouldn't have to go to school. I remember praying to go to jut make me go away.

Today I suffer from bulimia and hate to go out. I have succeeded in one thing, getting an education. If anything, my being fat has made me stronger...I wish people weren't so mean.


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From: Louise
This is my story...
 
As a little girl I went to a church school and the only difference I noticed between my size and the size of the others in my class was that a) I was a lot taller than most of them and b) you couldn't see my ribs when I changed for gym.
When I was 6 I had to visit a doctor who kept weighing and measuring me and then asked a lot of questions about what I ate, and did some of those skin prick tests. My parents told me it was because I needed a check up. I later found out my headmistress had told them to send me there because I was too heavy for a girl of my age.
Then when I was 8 we moved to France. Even then I didn't realize I was fat, until one day I got off the bus and a girl shouted "Bye, Ashley" (my friend), "Bye Fatso" (me). I told my parents and they said I wasn't fat and should ignore it. This girl, and all her horrible friends, carried on with it though, on the bus they used to push me around and call me a fat cow, fat bitch, etc. My father went to the school to get it stopped because they covered me in Dr Pepper, however he said he wouldn't have done anything if that hadn't happened, because names couldn't hurt me. How wrong he was.
Two years later I appeared in 'A Midsummer Night's Dream'. My best friend was there too and we were being measured for dresses. The woman measured me but not my slim friend: she just added three inches to the height and removed six inches from the measurement. I was absolutely stunned, to think that I was that big compared to her.
Six months after THAT we were both being teased at school, by kids who used to spit at us and push us around. I heard them talking about a new girl in my class, who was much bigger than me and they said "She's even fatter than Louise." That REALLY hurt.
Now I'm 14 and still big, and always on a diet. I think I'm slimmer now than I used to be, though. It is weird, being so big makes me think fat is bad and ugly, but if I was thin I know I'd say it's important to accept fat people. The good thing is, nobody bullies me about my size any more. Maybe that should just be enough.


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From: bambi bators
This is my story...
 
I hated school and who wouldn't if you were anything like me. I was always "different", I liked music more than the latest trends and I thought for myself. I was always the last person chosen for gym class and in volleyball the other girls aimed at my head. It was humiliating. When puberty hit it only got worse I wasn't skinny anymore. In retrospect I was average weight but the standards were so high. Average wasn't enough. I was called fat all the time because my hip bones did not protrude enough. Add the fact that I also got into Goth/punk before it was more commonplace so being weird AND fat was apparently unforgivable by my peers. I did my best to get out of the experience in one piece thinking someday I could overcome the narrow mindedness. Unfortunately being an adult is worse. The playground is often just as bad and the stakes are higher. I have dealt with loving someone who wanted a supermodel, size prejudice in the workplace, self esteem issues. I try not to carry my school days with me. I work on loving myself but I still have those scars. The feeling of never being quite good enough follows me around like a lost puppy.
For all the fat kids in school....believe in yourself. Get everything in check before it takes over your life.


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From: me and my fat
This is my story...
 
Well where should I start?? I'm 16 at the end of this month and I thought id share with you my story....
I was a skinny little girl at junior school and some times y mm would get worried that there was something wrong with me, at 7 I had my tonsils removed and I began putting on weight it wasn't too bad! Through primary school id get the odd spiteful remark, then I started secondary school and every thing changed, I started a school with few friends and with in the first few months I had none I was miserable, unhappy and FAT! At lunch time I would stay in the toilets and eat my packed lunch rather than face the loneliness and torments of other people I would stand in the cubical and move from one to the other in case anyone thought I was up 2 something to try and divert there attention, and I would stand there and cry, I through myself into my school work rather than make friends which got me a name of a "boffin" which I wasn't I didn't make any close fiends for a while and would often sat in my room and watch the light bulb swinging from he cable an which I had the guts to get a rope and tie myself up, but I couldn't ever do it I couldn't put my family through that, I used 2 fake being ill rather than go 2 school and id go for weeks without doing p.e, my teacher often got me into her office and looked at me in disgust and have a go at me for not doing p.e, she told me off for coming last in running round the field and told me off for not wearing shorts the summer months (did she really think I enjoyed it?? it was either that or show off my flabby legs).
There was one boy in particular who just would not leave me alone and constantly picked on me everywhere I turned he was there laughing at me he was so intimidating! I was always reporting him to the teachers but because he had problems of his own not much was said! One day I came home and told my mum that he threaten to smash my dads head in with a bat! She phoned my dad (who isn't a particularly fat man but quite broad and strong and it shows) he took me round this boy's house and had a word with him and is mum with me.... and well this boy hasn't looked me in the eye since!! I began hanging around with some girls who I though were my friends they used to taunt me and push me over because they thought it was funny to se me "bouncing" on the floor they thought it was funny to see me run to the toilets in tears! I went on a diet with one of them we wet to all the classes and I stuck to it religiously it was quite high in fiber and I think I did it wrong because it didn't work this girl went around school telling people how much I weighed one day I was eating my sandwich and another girl started on me (I hadn't even said a word to her) she started laughing at me calling me a fat cow there were about 10 other girls around me they just stood there and watched some even sniggered when she finished shouting at me she carried on talking to her mates as if nothing had happened I felt the hot tears run down my face and a lump in my throat I couldn't say anything I mean she was the "leader" of my group how could I have go at her? (Even now as I think about I my eyes are filling up with tears as the memory is coming back), my family did support me but hey weren't fully aware of what was happing and how unhappy I was!
From that day on I decided I would make myself a better person then any of them so I found a group of friends who were nice to me (last year) and I began to settle in (after 3yrs of torment) I went on a diet with my mum and lost just over 2 stone I felt so happy everything was falling into place I now have a social life and am never at home Friday nights and Saturdays its brilliant!!! Although I still have a weight problem and its begging to creep back on I can manage it, although I haven't had a boyfriend well ever I start collage and hopefully I can get away from the immature spiteful mouthed teenagers and may be meet someone??? It's always a possibility!!! But I still have no confidence I myself and I still blush every time anyone talks to me but I am becoming slightly more confident with me and now I'm getting away from those memories that people have of me and in a way starting a new life for myself!!! Just remember to look after yourself and don’t let people who make your life a misery because they shouldn't get away with it!!!!!


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From: BigA
This is my story...
 
This is not my story it's my daughters. Since she started school she was tormented by other kids EVERY single day. In kindergarten she was told she could not sit at their table - she was too fat. Every day in school they would verbally abuse her by asking her how many lunches she would eat or shout "MOOOOOOve over cattle crossing." I called the Minisink school district and asked them to have a assembly on peer pressure and abuse to overweight students. They said kids will be kids. Well because of the non-caring teachers my daughter had made the wrong friends because she wanted one so bad, wanted to commit suicide, ended up in a diagnostic center because of this. They don't live with her and don't hear her cry every night because of the torment. She refuses to take gym because she will not undress in front of a bunch of Barbie dolls. My daughter is angry and so am I that such things go on in life and that people are so cruel. Including the teachers. We have moved to a different area so she can get away from the abuse she took for 9yrs. My daughters childhood memories that are suppose to be so wonderful are nothing but a living nightmare.


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From: Lori O.
This is my story...
 
It didn't matter what I wore, or how I styled my hair. You still mocked me. You spit on me and called me names, and laughed with your friends.

When I was 12, your name was Cory. You pretended to ask me out and be my "steady". But it was all a cruel joke, one that lasted for months. But I didn't laugh.

When I was 13, your name was Alan. You got others to call me "Jabba the Hut", and made fun of how I crossed my legs. It lasted a year until you moved away.

When I was 14, your name was Martha. You and my best friend from kindergarten decided that you were going to try out for cheerleading. And I didn't "fit" your image. So you dumped me.

When I was 15, your name was Barbie. You called all of the bakeries in town and ordered sheet cakes with pigs on them. They all said "Happy Birthday, Piggy!" You stopped when my dad called the police.

When I was 16, your teasing and taunting finally got to me. I replayed my mom's words over and over as I tried to slit my wrists. She said, "Consider the source...."

Now I am 30. I am still fat. I am BEAUTIFUL. I have accepted myself. I thank God for making me who I am, what I am and giving me another chance. I have a terrific husband, a beautiful daughter and wonderful friends. I enjoy my life. And although I may remember the names of those who have hurt me so much in the past, that is all that I remember about those individuals. Anyone who really got to know me in those years remember a fun person, one who was caring and compassionate, one who loved to sing. Those that looked beyond my weight when I was younger gave me the courage to become who I am today. And when I think back to Cory and Alan, Barbie and Martha, I think of how insecure and threatened they must have felt by me. Why else would they feel the need to cut me down, only to make themselves feel better? Build their own selves up by tearing away at me? Fifteen years later it seems so ridiculous, I have to stop and laugh. The laughter has replaced the many tears that I shed during my school days and I think of how what seemed so crushing at the time is truly irrelevant in the grand scheme of life. I am the same person at 30 that I was at 13. I've just learned to love myself for who I am and not what I look like.

And anytime I'm faced with a tough situation, Mom still gives me the same advice. Consider the source....
Words to live by.


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From: Mom
This is my story...
 
My son gets teased not because he is fat, but because he is skinny. He gets called Skinny Bones Jones (not even our last name).


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From: Corbin
This is my story...
 
I was fat. It is just so easy to say that now. But when I was younger, the word fat was taboo. My friends were afraid to even utter it in my presence for fear of hurting my feelings.
And those who weren't my friends were not so nice about it. Oil-tanker, giant-sea-floating-organism and enormous-million-pounded-tub-of-lard were some of the more "creative" nicknames that I've heard over the years.
I can never forget the sneers on their faces when they say it to my face, and laughing like they've cracked the funniest joke on earth.
And like most of the human population out there, I took solace in food. And of course, that makes matters worse.
That went for a long, long time. Years to be exact. My family members were constantly nagging at me to do something about my weight. And I always felt inferior to my friends because of my figure and size.
I tried to lose weight, but I did not have the determination and the discipline. Being fat was my obstacle, and I simply could not overcome it.
I tried living with it, but it was not easy, living in a world where most people are superficial and obsessed with the idea of beauty. And being fat is simply NOT beautiful.
And finally, everything reached the point when I just can't take it anymore. And I started acting like a snob to everyone. It was my only form security, but I also became less and less popular. Life seems bleak and miserable for the poor fat girl back then.
Until someone, who can't bear to see me spend the rest of my life being miserable, stepped in to help me change my life. And that person is my mother. She dragged me to a doctor, and insisted she do something about me, her fat daughter. It was all pretty funny, my mum and the speechless doctor, both looking at me, trying to think of someway to jab me from the fat, ugly pig into a fairy-tale princess.
That did not happen though. I went for several appointments, had talks on weight-control, and the importance of exercise. I also dutifully ate the pills that the doctor prescribed to help me control my appetite.
And after the first month, I started to lose weight. I started to do light exercises as prescribed by the doctor. And from then on, things started to improve.
People that used to walk past me in the corridors, comment on my lost. Friends who were always there for me, were there to give me thumbs-up.
And suddenly, I found myself to have a lot of friends. Even those people who used to look at me like I'm an alien. They would comment that I look better now. I know that it was just a roundabout way of saying, now that you're looking more like a human than a pig, you can join our activities, because you won't embarrass us anymore.
The events later on were rather blurry. I kept up with my diet, obsessed with it, and I would have kept on with it until I die of anorexia or bulimia, until one day, I stopped and looked at myself. I realized that no matter what I do, people will always find something to talk about. I decided to drop my diet, and concentrate on living the life, that my mother and my doctor help me achieve.
Now, even though I'm not the slim or perfect figured types, I'm healthy, and I have fun being myself. I'm quite happy with the way my life is going. So what if I have a big rear end, and sometimes, people still comment that I'm still not slim enough. I would always tell them that, no matter how much I try, I can't please anyone. I've achieved my standards, and I'm contented.


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From: Sarah
This is my story...
 
I am in 6th grade and almost all the girls in my class like myself are chubby! The only girls who aren't are mean! nobody ever gets picked on except for this girl, named Brianna. I feel sorry for her. She is very tall too! I just want to say that anyone who has ever picked on a chubby kid is horrible! I know this girl who used to be chubby and she stopped eating and had to go to a hospital. I donno where she is now! I have lost weight but I remember crying because I got picked on once in second grade and that was the only time I was ever picked on.


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From: "Darryl"
This is my story...
 
This is my fat kid story. I moved to Michigan when I turned 8. I just lost my parent and had to move in with my grandparents. That's when I began gaining weight..

By 9th grade...I was 270 pounds. First day of high school, I was ridiculed...I came from a public school into a private catholic school and didn't know a soul. I always used humor as my means of being okay with myself and letting everyone realize I had something to offer.

Well, first day of 9th grade came. Some guy suggested I become bulimic...I said, "I would, but I'm afraid I'd eat my arm!" They didn't laugh..they all moved to a different table, leaving me to eat by myself..

I did make one friend...His name was Jon...He knew I had a crush on this girl in the Theater department. He suggested I ask her to Homecoming..After some coaxing...I finally went through with it...She said no..

That night, I had Jon over...I began to weep. He told me to cut it out and that he thought I was gay... He said he wouldn't be friends with a gay person, let alone a fat one...He walked out and we never spoke again..

Word got out that my parents had died...People stopped making fun of me and just ignored me...I was nothing...

The summer before my Junior year, I got Leukemia. By December, I was ready to go back to school...I was invited to look around the school and to re-familiarize myself with the school...

The counselor asked if I wanted to see the banner for our Boy's Soccer Team State Championship. I walked into the gym and...

An overwhelming amount of applause hit me...People were on their feet cheering for me, that I made it through okay...Even Jon...

People can be cruel, but remember, they're just people.


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From: Megan
This is my story...
 
Well my name is Megan and I am 11 years old. I am 5"0 and weigh 120 pounds. I hate the way I look and I starve myself, exercise continuously. but after that I eat eat and eat. my sister and her friends only make it worse making me drown my sorrows in food. I think my sister should grow up cuz she is 18!and also is over weight but lost almost 100 pounds so I can't say anything back when she calls me chunky butt. I am very popular at school but still everyone I know except my really good friends talk about how fat I am behind my back and my one friend Jessica who never ever talks bad about me in some way kinda makes it worse. because she is 11 also and in grade 7 also and used to weigh 52 pounds and now weighs 74 pounds but still looks great. I hate all beauty magazines because of the beautiful skinny models but I still can't help but read them. People tell me I'll get taller and the fat will go away but I know it won't. it'll never go away. I feel horrible about myself.


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From: Lindsay
This is my story...
 
When I was around 9-12 years old I was so not happy with my life. I weighed more than most kids. I was very tall I know that I was around 5'4-5'8. The tallness didn't hide my weight so much. It was hard for me to make friends because my self esteem went so low. I made friends and they were embarrassed by my looks so they left me in the dust. I hated buying school clothing so badly. I was made fun of so badly I even had to lie a lot so people would not find out. When people asked how much I weighed I said that I didn't have a scale (which is not true). It hurt me even more when my brother called me names and told kids at my school to call me them. He always used the name Biggie. Biggie was a rapper that was very overweight that died of heart failure. I felt that I would never get a boyfriend never make friends that were girls, and never be able to wear those cool outfits that are only made in the real skinny sizes. But I tried to not let that stop me, I bought so cool clothing that some kids at my school just didn't understand why a "Fat Kid" was wearing that kind of clothing. So I went back to my dull baggy clothing. I tried dieting- didn't do much for me. Not eating- Hurt me. Exercising- made me feel worse. And as a girl it is even more harder to be fat because you know how girls are suppose to look like in all. I just hated myself and my life! I felt like just killing myself at times. Now as a teen I still look the same but have regained some of my self esteem. I have some new friends that are boys but they are my buddies. now I just need friends that are girls to talk about things that they can relate to. I now wear what I want as long as it fits. And when people call me fat I am still sad but I tell them that I like the way I look. And that my friend is true!
-Lindsay


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From: max coconato
This is my story...
 
I am 28 years old and have forgotten all my child memories except being a fat child getting made fun of in school. It was almost like torture going threw school days when all the kids made fun of me and called me names like "fatzilla" and "chunkorilius". every day I got home and cried. I felt ashamed to eat snacks and didn't want to anymore. I have not forgotten about my child hood memories and will never forget them.


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From: Still Learning
This is my story...
 
The hardest lesson of school for me was finding out that I wasn't like the other kids. I was usually one of the first picked for things like football, but I was last pick at the dances. At 15 I weighed 180 pounds at 5´ 6". The most hurtful thing that happened to me was when a girl I secretly had a crush on asked me to the dance and didn't show up. All the popular kids were snickering at me as they showed up in pretty, thin pairs so I knew they were all in on it. Every time I see a blonde girl I can't help remembering that afternoon. That school was hell, but now I'm in college and I have a great relationship with a sweet, intelligent who cares about all of me.


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From: Geena
This is my story...
 
I'm about five feet and 115 pounds. If I told you I felt fat you'd probably tell me to shut up and go cry a river. But I do.
I became anorexic in seventh grade, bulimic in eighth. Bulimia has followed me all the way to college. I have dreams about my esophagus rupturing. I live in fear of dying of a heart attack.
All I can say is this probably never would have started if I hadn't been told that, at about 88 pounds, I could "stand to lose some weight." My mother, petite and probably somewhat anorexic herself, drove into my mind that not rail-thin=fat and fat=lazy and lazy=failure. I don't know what to do some days. I wish I could eat normally, not forever starving or binging. Word of advice: Parents, let your children grow into their bodies. As long as they eat healthily, normally, let them a lone. At puberty, most girls could "stand to lose a few pounds"....but that wouldn't be healthy. Tomorrow I start Slim Fast, maybe that will work... it makes me sad to think about all the time I have wasted with this awful eating disorder. No one should have to go through this, and often it seems I am the only one that does.


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From: Cassy
This is my story...
 
I am an overweight kid right now. I'm 13 and female. I try my best to fit in but it doesn't work. I'm called names like fat chick and moocow. I just want to be cool. if I could change anything about me it would be my weight because I believe if I was slimmer I would be beautiful. I hate my looks. its upsetting. but I'm losing weight and hopefully I might get what I want


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From: Franny
This is my story...
 
It was my 8th grade year. I was 160 lbs , and 5'5". I used to dread going to school in fear of what may come my way as far as fat jokes or harassment from the others. It was in 9th grade I started to throw up whatever I ate. I couldn't handle it, I'd wake up and yell at myself. Telling myself I had no control, if I had control I would not eat. So I did this for the next year. 10th grade; I hated myself, tried to commit suicide 4 times, and I hated throwing up. So in response I just stopped eating. I got down to 115 lbs, within a matter of months. People started to notice me, said I looked better. So I kept it up, it got to the point where I could hardly lift myself out of bed I was so weak. I just hated myself, I hated myself for being fat, I hated myself for not being strong, I just hated being me. It got better as time went on, but I will never forget what all those kids said to me and how I ruined my health to fit into there perfect Barbie world. I am now only a senior, I still have my moment when someone will have a bright idea to call me fat and I won't eat for a week. but I always come to and see its not right. I wish I could just once and for all get over it, but the truth is I never will.


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From: Cyndiana
This is my story...
 
Ah, childhood...

God must love or hate me, I'm not sure which, because most of the painful memories from my school life have been locked away in the dark recesses of my troubled mind, but I still have plenty.

I remember my earliest being in Kindergarten. I was playing on this wooden playground my school has. Out of nowhere a gang of my fellow classmates attacked me. I was shoved onto some wooden stairs, kicked, stomped on, hit, pinched, spit on, stepped on, my hair was pulled, all while the recess monitor, the other Kindergarten classes' teacher, watched, and did nothing. I still bear a scar where my hand was stomped on and my knuckle split.

I was also deathly afraid of heights (buying into the "the bigger they are, the harder they fall" theory), and I was swinging alone, only going medium-high, and quite enjoying myself. This girl came along and offered to push me in the swing. I was so hungry for companionship, I let her. Soon I began to get higher than I was comfortable with. In a panic I jumped as the swing met even with the top bar, about 10 feet off the ground. It was absolutely a miracle that I came out of it with not even a broken bone.

Then, in I believe 2nd grade, a student put a fire ant on me that decided to bite on the soft part of my under arm (not arm pit, the under side of my upper arm) and I spent the day in agony. My arm felt like it was on fire (thus the name "fire ant") and I had to keep going to the nurse for ice ( a bag an hour for a total of 6 bags that whole day) to make the pain bearable, to which she asked "Do you really need all this ice?" to which now I would have replied, "Do you need my foot up your ass?"

These are the only blatant memories of physical violence I have, though I <b><u>KNOW</b></u> there are more. The worst torture I suffered was emotional.

There was a 3rd grade teacher that hated me for my size, and was not secretive about it. I had "cry baby syndrome" due to the loss of my beloved brother (who I'll discuss later on in this rant). She used this as a way to punish me for my weight. When I'd start to cry, she'd tell me to go into this room (it was more like a passage way between two sets of double doors. It couldn't have measured more than 4'w X 4'l X 6.5'h) and cry at the wall. I thought she did this because I was uncontrollable, but I'd then notice that she'd only have me do this, that any other students were not only allowed to cry, but she comforted them.

These events occurred in the first 4 years of my schooling. AND this is only what happened to me. My brother, who was also fat, went through tortures I'd never have survived.

My brother, Shawn, was by far a genius. He was doing college level algebra by age 13/14. He was even teaching his own TEACHERS algebra. Harvard, Stanford, and Yale had all pretty much promised him a seat in their classrooms after graduation by the time he was in 8th grade. He was the brightest star my school had ever known, and ever WOULD know, but they still treated him inhumanly.

There was a teacher there, who's name I will not mention here to save his piddly reputation. He was a terrible man. He'd have boys over to his house and show them dirty movies, give them dirty magazines, and he'd try to look up the little girl's skirts (even having a fit with my parents for making me wear shorts under all my skirts and dresses). This horrible man was revered and respected at my school. It was this man who tortured my brother the most. During a P.E. class, for no real reason I can think of, this teacher starts to discuss men's penis sizes, stating that "black men have big ones, white men have small ones, and fat guys don't have any at all" then turned to point at my brother. How he could hold his head up after that, I'll never know.

My brother would be teased and humiliated by students, that would then turn around and beg his help in school work. Then, at age 14, he died suddenly one night of a rare form of meningitis. Those very same students appeared at his funeral acting as if they were all Shawn's best friends, and to add insult to injury, THAT teacher spoke at his funeral. I'm thankful that I was spared the knowledge of what this teacher did to him, because even at 6 years old, I fear I'd have slit his throat as he spoke.

God is good sometimes, because not long after my brother died, that bastard had a heart attack and died on the school bleachers.

The point of all this inane ranting is that these tortures would have been avoided if only a teacher had spoken up, and instead of the ol' cop-out standby, "If you don't get upset when they make fun of you, they will stop", they had said, "You don't deserve to be treated this way, I'll put a stop to it." It would have made my life, and my brother's lives a lot richer, happier, and fuller.

I make this plea to any parents of fat children: Please, I BEG you, if your child is being teased or physically assaulted for their weight, DO NOT accept this as "all part of growing up". Take your ass down to their school, and raise hell! A black kid cannot be teased, any other minorities cannot be teased, demand that your child not be allowed to be teased, either.


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From: overweight teen
This is my story...
 
I am to a fat kid I am 13yrs old and I weigh over 350lbs. but I tell other kids that I weigh less then 300lbs.sometimes I hate going to school because I know that the other kids will tease me and call me names like fatso,tub of lard, orca, fat pig, etc, etc. I really hate gym because some days we will play basketball and the teams will divided into shirt or skins and the other kids will pick me on the skin side just so they can pick on me. and they know that I hate to take off my shirt to show mine body. if I don't take off mine shirt the teacher will flunk me and if I do take off mine shirt the other kids will just laugh at me. and sometimes the other kids will walk up walk up to me and will squeeze mine big belly and then they will run away because they know that I cannot catch them. sometimes mine best friend who is real skinny he weighs around 75lbs will help me and sometimes he will tease me like the other kids. no matter how hard I try to lose weight I just can't do it. especially when people start to call me names about mine weight I just go home and eat all day. also I have to sit at a table because the desk are to small for me to sit in, so that gives the other kids to tease me about.


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From: Katie
This is my story...
 
This is my story. I am a 15 year old and still am in school. I am a fat obese girl. It is the hardest thing anyone must go through. Well I have a story that sticks out in my mind. Well, actually it just happened yesterday. I walked into Chemistry class after lunch (which for me, consisted of a left-over doughnut form breakfast.) A guy named Justin walked in and told no one in particular that Kristen had a boyfriend. Now, Kristen is this girl in our school who memorizes the yearbook and phone book. She knows everyone's name and phone number and address, scary stuff. Plus, she's really annoying. Always asking stupid questions (remember what teachers say "there's no stupid questions"-well, after having Kristin in their class, they never repeat that again) and telling us stuff we could care less about. She has the title of the most annoying girl in school. So when I was told that SHE, of all girls in our school has a boyfriend, I was crushed. I may be fat, but I'm not a bad looking girl. I get hit on by tons of older guys, but I've never actually had a boyfriend. I am at a lost for words now. I hate being fat. Why can't I be thin and wear Express jeans and tight baby t-shirts?


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From: Princess
This is my story...
 
My story is like the many others written here. My mother had put me on every diet known to man, to no avail. My grandmother used to pat my protruding belly and say, with pity in her voice "I wish you could loose that tummy." I outwardly shrugged off the comments from friends and family. Their comments really hurt though. At night I used to cry and pray "Please help me to have the will power to loose this weight." Nothing ever worked. Those who have not lived their entire lives being overweight could never understand what it is like. I have had my stomach stapled and have lost all 130 of those extra pounds that I carried around. I have gained much self confidence but not all of it. I carry around with me the extra skin that used to be filled with fat. I don't look good in shorts and you still would not catch me at the pool. But I can pass as a "normal" person. I am married to a wonderful man who calls me his princess and tells me that I am perfect the way I am. I still feel like a fat person, and always will. I have two beautiful children now. My 11 year old son is 50 pounds overweight, and my 7 year old daughter has just lately developed a little tummy. I feel helpless to help them. I never learned how to help myself, so how can I help them. I know my son gets teased. He doesn't ever want to talk about it. We are trying weight watchers right now. He has lost 15 pounds and seems very motivated. I too lost a few pounds on the many diets I tried as a child. The lost pounds always found me though, and brought more with them. Now at night when I cry and pray for help, its for my children. I would gladly take all the weight back to spare them the horror of growing up as a fat kid. It is a horror. "Normal" children and adults have no tolerance for fat. It's sad really. Fat people are the most loving and giving people. We have to be. Otherwise we would die of loneliness


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From: princess
This is my story...
 
I have blocked out most of my childhood. What does come back now and then usually makes me cry. I have two children, a 5th grader and a 2nd grader. I have home schooled them their entire lives. I never wanted them to go through what I did. I have had to go back to work now and next year I will have to put them in school. I am having nightmares about it and cry constantly. I am trying to be positive for their sake. I hope that they will make friends. I hope that they don't get teased. I hope I hope. But I know they will. I love them so much. I wish I could protect them from the pain that society inflicts on overweight people. There are so many of us you would think it would be more accepted. We are not the minority we are the common. Fat is not ugly it's just different.


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From: becca
This is my story...
 
Hey, my name is becca, and I'm only 11 but I have quite a story. When I was 11 years old I got a stomach thing called esophogitus. at that time I was over weight by about 30 pounds. I was happy go lucky and I really never thought about my weight until I got esopgogitus. I was scared to eat when I'm got it because it hurt so badly. I lost 40 pounds in 2 months. So as of now, I am a very average kid. but all the time I think about it and how I ever lived with being fat, but its not a bad thing and don't let people get you down about being a size bigger then them.


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From: skinny kid
This is my story...
 
I'm 11 years old and weigh 125 its a horrible felling but
all the other girls at school wear nice clothing and my mom spends the whole day looking for one outfit so I'm trying to stop eating because I told myself I will be fit by summer and I'm getting there right now.


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From: Silver
This is my story...
 
I've been a big girl as long as I could remember- I didn't even like junk food when I was growing up, I guess it's just my genetic makeup and love of sitting quietly with a good book. Everything was alright though, till the third grade. That's when I went to a private school...the kids there were supposed to be really nice, but unfortunately they all happened to be really skinny and came from houses where carob was considered an adequate substitute for chocolate (it's not). Because of this, I stuck out even more and so got teased. I remember my mother telling my best friend (at the time) a story about how when I was two, she told me I could be anything I wanted to be and I said I wanted to be a fire truck. Well, you can just imagine what happened. She told everyone, and I was told by my classmates that I would indeed be a fire truck if I didn't lose weight. I also remember one of the boys at my school telling me that I was going to break the floor; he did not listen to me when I pointed out that if our teacher (a 6 ft. adult male) wasn't in danger of breaking the floor, neither was I. That school only went up to 6th grade though, and I'd hoped that 7th grade would be better. It wasn't- at least in my private school, no one threatened my life. The kids in public school said things like "this necklace is worth more than you are" and "you know I'm gonna kill you, right?" Well, the teachers in my public school were more sympathetic, and tried to protect me- but I didn't want to be protected. I wanted to fight back. I made a commitment to myself never to go on a diet; I've managed to stick with that to this day. I also became involved with various subcultures; being a "freak" helped me to find friends who would accept me for who I am AND had the added bonus of scaring away attackers. Thinking back on all of this now, I want to strangle whoever first said that ridiculous statement, sticks and stones can break my bones, but words will never harm me. Words do hurt, a lot. Now that I am a senior in college, no one really pays attention to my weight (though I am firmly in the BBW body range) which is just as well, since I don't pay attention to it either. I refuse to weigh myself or let the doctor tell me what the scale says- it will just make me needlessly self-conscious. I still am a "freak", and proud. I don't see why society has the right to tell us how to look, dress, or be. Ultimately I hope to change society, so my kids won't go through the hell that I went through. But I refuse to be anyone but myself now, no matter what anyone thinks. Anyways, thanks for listening, and remember, believe in yourself!

-Silver


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From: mia
This is my story...
 
When I was younger I was teased for being fat, once I left grade school, I became anorexic, for two years now I have been. While this has helped me lose a lot of weight, I will always be stuck with the side effects. Please don't do this to yourself.


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From: fiona
This is my story...
 
I'm 17 and from Scotland. most of the stories on this site are from America and are a hell of a lot different from mine. For the first four years of high school I wasn't just called "fatty" or anything like that I was subject to assholes in the street screaming abuse at me, usually things like "fat bitch", "fat cunt" etc. Not only this, but if I turned 'round to say anything or even just look to see who it was that was yelling at me or throwing things at me (I've had broken glass thrown at me) then one of these annoying little cretins would pick a fight with me, usually starting with "what the fuck are you lookin' at u fat cow". If I told any of my teachers about this they would either not believe me or say they'd deal with it but they never seemed to do anything about it. The most they'd do is speak 2 the pupil and then I'd end up in another fight with the pupil a week later for being a "grass". Now that I'm in my last year at school people are a lot better, the only problem is that I have built up this defense mechanism (I cannot spell. lol.) so that whenever someone gets close or tries to help me with something I won't let them. I'm am still overweight and I still have huge problems because of it. The only time I don't seem to care is when I try to forget about it, and now if someone calls me fat I tend to lose my temper and threaten them. There was this time about 1 year ago I had an argument with my friend and she told me that I was going to die because I was so fat, I totally lost control and smashed her head off a tiled wall. She was fine (a bit shaken but fine) but I wasn't, she forgave me but I've never forgiven myself or the people that drove me to act like that. Nothing like that has happened recently and hopefully it won't happen again.

to sum up my school sucks big time at dealing with problems and never seemed to care less. Was you're school any better?


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From: Momo
This is my story...
 
I was thin until I hit puberty. I grew up on a farm, I did a lot of work and play outdoors, but I ate too much fattening food. When I hit puberty the weight just piled on! I didn't realize I was overweight until I was 14. I was home-schooled until my freshman year of high school...and let me tell you, high school can be cruel when you've never set foot in a public school. I realize now that I wasn't that big--only a size 14! But people made me feel a lot fatter than I actually was. Gym was the worst! There were two guys in my class who always made fun of me and my "big a$$." There was a guy in my Spanish class who pretended to ask me out as a joke. the girls were never mean outright...just really patronizing. I starved and even made myself throw up until I lost about twenty pounds. I was sick, I looked awful. I dated a guy who broke my heart...the weight came back and then some. It wasn't until college that I managed to get a grip on myself and be healthy (keep the weight off WITHOUT hurting myself). I still feel ugly and ashamed of myself sometimes.
That is my story.


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From: Fat-Freedom Fighter
This is my story...
 
I am 16. I am 240 lbs. I have a 38 inch waist. I have a disease: being fat. I have been fat for most of my life, since I was 8 or so. by 6th grade it was very clear to me that being fat wasn't acceptable. it was at this time I turned to music. music is the only thing in my life that will never double cross me. I listen to "bad music" such as Korn, limp bizkit, adema and other bands that do nothing negative at all, but vent anger out through music. I am constantly having names and any other things thrown at me. I am always picked last to play sports in gym and I don't even play sports anywhere else anymore, not even at home. I used to play baseball and football but I couldn't' take the harassment from peers and coaches anymore. I am especially sick of this one asshole named Brandon. he was my friend until he got skinny. now the only thing that escapes his mouth towards me is, "hey, look at Adam's tits. they are bigger than Britney spears'." the one thing that hurts the worst is all the guys and their girlfriends and how happy they are. I have never even come close to having a girlfriend. all I hear about from other guys is how they got lucky. I can count on one hand how many people at my school haven't had something even close to sex. I sit in my room virtually every night as tears of anguish roll down my cheeks thinking that no girl will ever remotely enjoy me. my hormones are so strong and I am so desperate that I just finished my probation sentence I received for being caught looking in places I shouldn't. there isn't a school day that goes by that I don't hear a comment like, "what's wrong? no one wants your fat ugly body, so you have to secretly watch them." I also have a mild case of epilepsy (when you have seizures) from worrying too much and being put under tremendous stress. I feel a little closer to the edge of suicide every day. I can only hope I make to my adulthood. each minute is a struggle through life for a fat person. my greatest wish is to rid the world of ALL fat-discrimination. I must fight the freedom to destroy the 'hate the fat' mind frame of the next generation.


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From: anonymous
This is my story...
 
When I was little, everyone said two boys loved me! I was thrilled! The bad part was that I was in the 5th grade and weighed 178. I didn't eat meat and I did sit ups etc. one day one of the boys came back from sea world and gave me a b.day gift, I just want to say to the little people out there, fat helps you develop! People still may like you, and that is a fact! Never give up hope!!!


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From: C.L.M.
This is my story...
 
I was always a fat kid. I remember all the way back to preschool being different looking and not being able to run and play as hard as the other kids. My family lived way out in the country where there was no other kids to play with. As a result, I was very stationary, ate lots of snacks, and watched TV. Starting with 3rd and 4th grades I started to get heavier. I got Ms. Piggy, fat slob, moo cow, stinky sow, etc. As a result, I withdrew and developed extreme social anxiety. As I went into jr. high in 1988 puberty was not kind to me. I wore sweat pants and huge t-shirts to school. I went home crying on an almost daily basis. My parents couldn't afford private school, and were at a loss of what to do about my weight. As I went into high school, I turned to drugs. The 'head' crowd was much kinder and accepting of my appearance. I slimmed down a bit but was still a size 16, which in high school was like being an elephant. However, the massive drug use impaired my judgment, and as a result I was raped by five of my 'friends' during a drug filled afternoon. I tried to put this behind me and go on as if nothing happened. I cleaned up my appearance and sought new friends. Funny, now that I had lost some weight (size 12) and cleaned up, the popular kids were so much nicer to me. I developed a couple of close relationships with guys in that crowd, but they didn't work out. I always thought. it is because they are embarrassed to be seen with me ..the fat girl. Those years of being tormented about my weight and appearance still are in my mind. I think every time a relationship doesn't work, or I don't get asked out, or called again...it is my weight (even though I am now a size 8). This kind of social and verbal abuse can ruin one's entire self -image and hopes of healthy relationships. Parents-- if your young child has a weight problem, seek help. Play with them actively and keep minimal junk food in the house. Above all, if they are in a continually upsetting school situation REMOVE THEM! PROTECT THEM. IT IS YOUR JOB AS A PARENT.


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From: lard but
This is my story...
 
When I was growing up between kindergarten and 8th grade I was always picked on because I was extremely obese. I had a low self esteem about my self and I was a loner. At lunch was the perfect opportunity for kids to pick on me. They use to throw their leftover food at me and tell me to eat it fat boy otherwise they would beat me up after school. I was terrified so I was eating lots of food 4 or 5 times more than other kids. I did not tell mom or dad and they had me on strict diets at home and wondering why it would not work. I felt sick and malaise and puked a lot. Then when I got to 7th and 8th grade I became depressed and stood 5 feet 5 inches and weighed 255 lbs. I was very depressed and the kids still would not leave me alone. They would get cute and say don't wear an x on your shirt because a helicopter might land on it. Or they would say don't go swim in the Atlantic ocean because they might think there's and oil spill (I'm black). By the time I reached 10th grade I was fed up with it. I joined football team as a non starter just to burn calories. It was working. I hit the gym 5 days a week right there in the school gym. I did this all the way through my senior year. I was in a lot better shape but still 20 lbs over weight. I said the heck with this I'm going for muscularity now. I joined the marine corps at 18 and the recruiter got me to only 5 lbs overweight the rest I lost in boot camp. At 20 years old I was getting into bodybuilding and getting very big, not fat. Now at age 22 years old I enter local bodybuilding contests and hope to be an international contender in a couple years. I go to local night clubs and I cant seem to go in without the girls looking at me and jumping all over me.


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From: Johnna
This is my story...
 
I remember when I was born I was always the fat chubby little girl with her cousins. I remember The at the age of 6 i was all ready the size 10 yearold boy, but alot heavier. Most of my family are large, so I dont know if i eat to much or am naturally that way. I remember when I went to school grades 1-7 we had to run a mile it always took me at least 30 min, while it took the others 10 at most, I remember all the boys laughing and say "i wonder if the pig will go any faster", or the girls would say " she is soooo ugly, im glad im not her." Then after we were finshed with the mile they would always make me get weighed while the kids watched. But now im in high school, im 14, and I will be entering my sophmore year as soon as school starts but I do still get picked on. But to tell you the truth I hardly pay attenion, and I have noticed, hey im big, but you know something I may fat, but your skinny and are an ass, so get a life. I mean Im in a school where 18 and 19 year olds pick on me.. But I feel someone will get them back for what they have done to me and to others....


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From: Anonymous
This is my story...
 
I think I was in Grade 3 when I really started noticing a change in my body and the way the kids at school treated me. Up until I was seven, I was of average weight and didn't look any different from my peers. I think my pure addiction to sweets was what did me in and the fact that I was a latchkey kid didn't help either. Basically, I would eat whatever was in the fridge until my parents came home from work.
I hated recess time, because the kids would run around and call me "Army Tank" and "Fatty, Fatty two by Four". I would pretend that it didn't hurt, but it did. I had only a couple of friends. It wasn't until grade 7 when I finally decided that enough was enough. I got into physical activity and ate more healthy foods. By the time I graduated highschool I had reached an average weight for my height and I was very happy. I know that I will never be able to just eat whatever I want, but I live with that. I now have two daughters of my own and don't want them to go through the same problems I had, so I encourage healthy snacks and physical activity.


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From: : l
This is my story...
 
I never really ever thought I was fat as I was growing up. I never even thought I was overweight. I just remember my mom saying that it was only baby fat and that it would go away. But I didn't. I guess it started around 5th grade. I remember I went with my grandmother clothes shopping. I was trying on some jeans and they didnt fit. My grandmother called the sales woman over, leaned over, and whispered loudly into her ear, "Could we find some jeans that would fit her. She's just too fat for these." I could feel my face turning red and I looked down and for the first time I thought I was fat. Over the next few years I tryed everything to lose weight. Only to please my mother, grandmother, and other family members who whispered, "what does her mother feed her?" at the annual family reunions. I finally gave up. I started eating all the time. I would eat my breakfast and then as soon as I ate that and everyone was out of the kitchen I would eat another packet of pop-tarts or another bowl of rice krispies-(with 4 spoonfuls of sugar, just like I liked it). My mom would buy those little debbie snacks and I would eat 2 or 3 at one sitting. I kept promising myself, "Once I reach 130 pounds I'll go on a diet." 130 pounds slowly changed to 140, then 150, then 175, then 200. I would go to my bedroom and looked at myself in the mirror. A solitary tear running a path down my puffy cheek. I went to a small, private school. (I should mention that by 7th grade most of the girls still hadn't reached 110 pounds, while I was pushing 175.) I was pretty well liked by all the other girls but I knew I would never go to parties with them or to the mall. (Not like I could ever shop at their stores anyways) But it was the guys that chose to torment me. I would just be walking and not bothering anybody and they would come up from behind me and push me down and then hold me down and say things like, "Whats the matter? Too fat to get up?" It wasnt really the physical abuse but the mental abuse that got to me. And you know how little seventh grade sex humor is- I would make perverted jokes along with all the guys, and that was the only times that they would hang around me. One day, this boy finally said, "Why do you talk about this sex stuff, Your so fat no one will ever fuck you." Those words hurt so bad. I knew then I had to do something before his words became reality. I knew that the danceline tryouts were in a month so I decided that could be my one chance to be popular. I went on a starvation diet, eating between 5 or 10 grapes only each day. The more weight I lost the more compliments I got. I finally got down to around 125. This was near normal enough for all the kids but I ended up switching schools for the next year so all my efforts were for nothing. That summer I gained back all the weight plus some. My mom began to hassle me about it like never before. Finally one day she just screamed, "WHY CAN'T YOU JUST BE SKINNY AND POPULAR LIKE I WAS WHEN I WAS IN SCHOOL?! NO ONE WILL EVER WANT TO BE YOUR FRIEND!" I never forgave her for it either. That year in school I made friends with a girl who was even more overweight with me so that helped to have a friend who knew how it felt. I finally decided to love my body for what it was. And it seemed that I got more friends after that, (and a boyfriend). My "fat friend" became so jealous of me. She began to fight with me all the time and talk trash about me behind my back. I finally confronted her and she began to cry and say that no one would ever love her. I tried comforting her. I tried to convince her that if a man that really and truly loved her would see past all her faults and just see a beautiful person. I guess I was convincing myself of that as well. And now that I'm older a truly believe it. I'm a size 12 or 14 and I'm completely happy about it!


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From: Jeanette
This is my story...
 
When I was young, I was shy, smart, and fat. Three strikes, and I was out of the social circles. It didn't help that I had skipped two grades - I was as different as different could be. Even though I looked the age of other kids (I've always been very tall), acted the age of other kids, and did all I could to fit in, I never did.

One year, it all changed. What most fat kids don't notice is that there are other fat kids, too. They're just as desperate for companionship and love. I became part of an outside social circle and learned how to socialize with people. It was in some ways a crutch - a way to learn to deal with anyone, by starting with those who were most similar.

The result was that we all ended up with self confidence - something we'd never had before. When that happened, strange things happened. We were accepted into other cliques. We started getting dates (!). We had - by the end of high school - the normal high school experience. We were accepted by all but a few jerks who would find something to insult in anyone.

Today, I'm a successful writer, have lost over 50 pounds, and am continuing to lose weight . Those outcast fat friends of mine became army reservists, fashion designers, and a whole host of other professions.

The reason fat kids often become unsuccessful adults isn't their weight, or even other kids' reaction to it. It's that they never learn to put themselves forward in social situations. I know for a fact that I am not viewed as a "fat girl" by anyone I know even tangentially - in spite of my size 20 body. I don't walk with my head down and I am not ashamed of my weight (though I would still prefer to have less of it!).

The trick is confidence. Without confidence, no one is attractive to others. You have to sell yourself. I became so good at selling myself that now I'm in the advertising world.

If you're in school and are reading these stories, please don't be disheartened. There is so much you can do, so much you can experience if you KEEP YOUR HEAD HIGH. When people call you "fat," thank them. It may sound weird, but when you hold your head high and thank them, they'll be confused, and they'll stop. Insults that have lost their power are no longer used by bullies.

Being fat isn't a hindrance to dating, to love, to friendship, or to career if you know how to conduct and carry yourself - but for many fat people, being marginalized since school makes it so that they're petrified at the thought of putting themselves out there.

If you're in school, take these lessons to heart now. Also, feel free to use this liberally, it served me well in school:

"Yes, I'm fat. I can lose weight. But you'll always be stupid."


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From: big girl#1
This is my story...
 
The whole time i was growing up there was this kid mark, a hefty guy himself, who made fun of me and called me fat and just wouldnt let up. i went through life convinced i was totally fat and it carried over into my adulthood. i was going through my year book a few weeks ago and saw a photo of me then and was like, wait a minute, i wasnt even fat, but he was so vicious and so consistent in his bullying that he convinced me i was fat and through his language convinced me that because i was soooo fat that i wasnt worthy of dating or even being friends with. there is a special place in hell for that guy and anyone of his ilk.


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From: Jen
This is my story...
 
My ordeal began in kindergarden. I missed the cut off date for entry, which meant I was forced to start a year late. When I began, I was one, and in some cases two years older than the other kids...and I was FAT. Right from the beginning I was reminded just how different I was than the others, as they would pinch and poke at my belly and arms while calling me fatty and laughing up a storm. There was also this wonderful little gathering called "group weighing," where all the kids would line up to get weighed. Imagine the snickers as I walked up to the scale, which felt more like marching to my death by way of guillotine. Not even 2 hours later, a rumor had spread that I weighed 300 pounds. Things didn't get better as the years progressed, in fact, they got so bad I nearly died. The fifth grade proved to be one of the worst and most traumatic years of my life. My best friend, who was just as unpopular as I was, decided to try out for jr varsity cheerleading. She made it, and happier I could not have been, until of course, I lost her. Although she was a cheerleader she wasn't yet popular because, as the other kids would say, she was friends with "that fat girl." In the end, the pressure proved to be too much and, like so many young kids do, she chose popularity over everything else...including her best friend. Close to the end she actually became the worst of all, simply because she had something to prove. My new name, courtisy of my x best friend, was Moo Moo, which remained with me until I quit school. But we'll get to that part later. During the years that followed I was taunted mercilessly. Even in the winter months I walked home from school to avoid riding the bus with my bullies. One day, however, it was storming; we're talking hail and the whole nine yards. Knowing what awaited me on the bus, I was hesitant to ride but, seeing as how I couldn't walk home with hundreds of golf balls clunking me on the head, I took a deep breath and stepped up onto the bus. Right away a boy started yelling, "Hey! She doesn't belong on this bus! She doesn't live on this rout!" He knew full well I did. He was my next door neighbor. The driver was no help and, despite my lack of a hard hat, I walked home in the hail. Another of my friends was also plump, but not nearly as fat as i was. Her sister was popular, and going over to her house was even worse than school because, in school, there were limits as to what could be done to me. When there were no rules and no chance for reprimand, however, nothing was off limits. I was punched and kicked and mocked, told to sit at the table where, just a few minutes prior, we were all eating, and left there while the others joked around outside and made cracks about what a pig I was. I didn't want to sit there and eat, but they wouldn't let me go with them. Finally, I gave up on friendship all together, refused to eat or go to school, and locked myself in my room where i remained until, one day on the way to the bathroom, I fainted. In less than a year I dropped from 200 pounds to 124. Although that isn't considered a very low weight, it was obtained through starvation and, by the time I reached that point, my body was so malnourished that it just simply stopped functioning. It was at that point that I had an epiphany. Fat bad; skinny good. Just to show how much of an impact eating disorders have on the mind, when I was hospitilized I was more upset that i couldn't hold out another 20 pounds so that, to the doctors, i would be considered underweight, than I was at the fact that I almost died. So what now...? Well, a few years ago I went back to school for my associates in paralegal studies. I'm now 25, working as a paralegal and attending a local university, prelaw, in the evenings. Although I'm doing well in my work and my studies, I can't shake those old feelings of being inferior and, well, somehow less of a person...deserving of torment. No matter how well I do, it's never good enough. I can't shake the feeling that I'm not as smart, not as pretty, and certainly must be insane to even be contemplating law school. The weight I've gained back is quickly coming off and, so far, it hasn't had an impact on my work/school. It's coming, though, the weakness, fatigue, inability to focus...I'd like to say that I don't know why I'm doing this to myself, that if I knew why I'd some how fix it. Unfortunately, I know all to well my reasons for this self inflicted torture. I'm angry...at them, at myself... I need a way to take out that anger, to tell them how much they hurt me. Maybe destroying myself physically is the best way to do that. Funny though, I'll never see them again anyway...yet I can't stop. I need to be the thinnest, food free and pure. When I binge I purge, as if in ridding myself of the food I'm also releasing everything bad and dirty inside of me...and their words. I'm not going to say that it's all their fault. A lot of people get teased; they don't all turn out like this. However, it did play a role in making me how I am today. People tend to blame parents for behavioral problems in children, even adults. Here's the thing, though. Growing up we spend half our lives in school, surrounded by our peers. In actuality, they have a hand in raising us... That said, let this be a lesson to all. Think before you speak. The damage done may be irreparable.


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From: anonymous
This is my story...
 
Up until the age of 8 I was quite a skinny child but at age 8 developed asthma and had to go onto strong doses of Cortisone. This worked negatively with my diet and I started to bloat and at the age of 10 was taking a size 40 slacks. I remember being teased but had a happy dispostion and covered my sadness very well. I was always immediately overlooked for any type of sport as the teacher would take one look at me and decide that I would not be capable. I therefore retired to indoor activities like choir etc. My folks accepted me for who I was as they loved me unconditionally. Once reaching my teenager years I was desperate for a boyfriend as everyone else seemed to have one. By this stage however I had developed such bad self esteem and became very introverted with the opposite sex. Once reaching high school and entering an all girl environment, together with my mom I set on a decent eating programme and plummeted to a size 34 and to 58 kilo's. My life changed dramatically and my self esteem increased. I will never forget my child hood chubby days and treat every child no matter what size with total respect for their individuality as I am now a school teacher and will never underestimate or place chubby children in a separate category to others.


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From: Anonymous
This is my story...
 
For as long as I can remember, I've always been the fat, ugly one. My best friend, who I've known since I was a baby, was always the skinny, pretty one. She would get the guys, and all the friends. I always wanted to be her. I remember in 3rd grade, we were doing something in class and she came up to me, and i dont know if it was for real or just mockingly, said, "are you 77 lbs like me?" well, i wasnt 77 lbs, i was 130, in 3rd grade...in 4th and 5th grade my nickname was "big chops." i remember being called that by the little boys who thought they were so funny. in junior high it was worse. i wasnt really called any names, but people made me well aware that i was fat. the highest i got to was 210 at 5'5. no one made eye contact with me, no one opened doors for me, and people really werent all that nice. i was although on the basketball team. but i remember once my best friend and one of her friends said something along the lines of "isnt it weird how fat people's short ride up on the inside of their thighs?" in regards to me, and then started imitating it. how humiliating. i remember walking to school everyday scared shitless. riding in the van to school, my heart pounded once we turned onto that street. i hates setting foot there. when i stepped out of the car, who knew what would be said. would someone laugh, would something be wrong with me? in gym, i was always picked last, and if i wasnt, i was scared that i WOULD be picked last. in school, if someone laughed clear across the room, it was at me. i would immediately check myself for something that MIGHT be wrong. to this day this is true. i still feel that people are laughing at me, i still feel that no one likes me, i still feel obesely fat and ugly, even tho everyday i am told how beautiful i am. even though ive lost so much weight that ive had to go into the hospital. even tho people KNOW me for being "the diet queen" or "miss exercise-aholic", even tho ive been asked to model, and ive also been asked IF i do model. i get hit on daily by gross men who think their studs, and i have a boyfriend who i love so much and he loves me also. but none of this "good stuff" matters, because of the pain i was given years ago. u know the saying sticks and stones will break my bones, but words will never hurt me? bullshit. id rather be beaten bloody and have all my ribs broken than to go through that torment again.


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From: Anonymous
This is my story...
 
It is very tough growing up as a fat child. In elementary school I had a lot of friends my own age, but waz teased by youngr and older kids. I am now 15 6'3 and 225 pounds. I have a lot of friends and dont get teased anymore. One thing is still very difficult, though. I am now a freshman and on my high schools basketball team and even though I am one of the strongest and best on the team, it is still hard to take off my shirt at practices. To all the kids out there, its not your looks but ur personality that makes u popular.


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From: jessie
This is my story...
 
I am 13yrs old and weigh 170lbs. i am in 7th grade. i remember a memory that happend in the middle of 6th gr. kids in my class ALWAYS made fun of me but that day i was sick and tired of it. see we had those long science tables that could seat 2 people at it. the kid in front of me was the worst. one day he said to me shut up titanic and so i got very angry and pushed the table into him and he fell on the ground and had a hard time getting up. i was spoken to the next day but all he said was " Now you didn't really want him to get hurt did you?" i lied and said no. from then on he never made fun of me again. MY ADVICE TO FAT KIDS WHO GET TEASED IS DONT LET PEOPLE GET TO YOU AND DO WHAT IT TAKES TO MAKE THEM STOP AS LONG AS YOU DONT GET IN TROUBLE all in all i dont get made fun of by schoolmates but sometimes by these 2 girls i am taking care of them though if you know wat i mean! ;)


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From: Angela
This is my story...
 
At 23 years old all I remember about my childhood was the fact that I was the "fat girl"....

But now I look back at old pictures and I see that I was never fat at all. I, unfortunately, was forced to move to a wealthy neighborhood when I was in the sixth grade where all of the girls were perfect little sixty pound wisps (and were made that way by their anorexic country club mothers, I imagine) and the fact that I weighed over 100 pounds was enough for me to get so psychologically tortured that I thought about suicide and I thought about it often.

After an especially bad day I would come home and write in my journal, "If I don't weigh 75 pounds by May I'll kill myself." And I meant it. But thankfully, I never did it.

The worst instigator of my torture was a girl named Annie. Annie was this cute little blonde with a rich daddy who always had the latest clothes, and if you were friends with Annie you were IT. She and her friends decided that I was going to be their target and they made the next three years of my life hell. Even kids who wanted to be my friend at first would torture me because if you were seen being nice to me you were officially added to their list of people to torment too.

Man, if I could go back in time and relive that knowing what I know now...

But let me tell you, after what I saw a few months ago I am a true believer in karma.

As an adult, I'm not a "skinny" person but I'm a very fit 5'4", 145 pounds. I also have a great job, own my own home, have wonderful friends and a fantastic life. Not long ago I was driving through my old town where my middle school torture took place and I went into a gas station to fuel up and get a bottled water. I knew there was something familiar about the girl at the counter, but it didn't hit me until I looked down at her nametag. "ANNIE"

When I looked into her eyes, I knew this was the same Annie who had been such a "goddess" at school, and now she was an unkempt, probably 300 pounds plus woman who was missing a few teeth. I can't tell you how much I wanted to say something to see if she'd remember me, but I didn't and just walked away.


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From: Gina
This is my story...
 
I was in the third grade when I recall being tormented for being overweight. Its acually very sad, alot of my childhood is blocked out of my own memory, I'm left with little images of indiviual events. Your general name calling, getting mildly pushed around (if one of the other kids was willing to risk getting "fat cooties") I had one friend in the 4th grade, untill she asked me not to tell anyone she was my friend, some friend. Nobody ever stuck up for me. I remember dreading reses and spending it alone in some random corner where I hoped to be left alone. Once a week our class ran an obstacal course with was positivly humiliating. The teacher seemed to stand there with some sick enjoyment as I struggled. I never finished it, or came close, it was physicaly impossible for a child of my size. I was forced to try anyway dispite my pleading. I did alot of school switching, some places were better then others, but I never had any friends. Other then the one friend at home who I had grown up with. (we are still friends today)In Jr. High things got incredibly worse. P.E. was introduced and I was forced to change in the locker room, where food was throw at me, my things were stolen from my locker, one time some girls waited till I was back in my street clouthes and dragged me into the showers, I had to spend the rest of the day all wet, and hurting. Once out there things did not improve (duh.) P.E. was basicly, run laps... I was triped, had rocks thrown at me, had my bra snapped, hair pulled, you name it. At lunchtime, when I wasn't getting my ass kicked, I would pretend to be sleeping, hopeing to be left alone. The school counsler set me up with the "friends" with whom I was supposed to have lunch with, but they to, made fun of me. By this time my mom had gotten involed in trying to do somthing about it for natualy I was refusing to go to school every morning. (I have been since 3rd grade) Plus, I was failing all my classes. After many meetings, the school decided to do nothing. So I went into home school. Went I went to high school, things got alittle better. I made a good friend who I shared a few classes with by coinidence. She was about my size (about a 16) but much stronger then I was, tough. While was always simply getting beaten up, she acted as somewhat of a security to me, people stopped messing with me for the most part because we stuck together. By my junior year I had earned the respect of most of my classmates simply by not allowing myself to be a victim. I joined clubs and got involed with drama. I also was very suicidle... But I had friends to turn to and I worked through it. Sure, there were still times when some ignorant person would trip me in the hall or call me names, but now I know it's their loss. I still get depressed sometimes, I still feel ugly sometimes, and I still sometimes want to kill myself... But as long as I know I have people who love me regardless of my appearance, I know I'll work through it... I just started collage last spring, and I know its uphill from here.


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From: Angel
This is my story...
 
I am a 15 year old girl who has had to deal with a lot in my life so far. The thing that has hurt me the worst was the cruleness of my peers and people younger than me. They are crule because they get it from t.v. and other places. My story begins here. I wake up every morning to go to school. I get to the bus stop, and thats when the taunting begins. By the time I get on to the bus my spirts have been broken down. The bus ride is worst than the bus stop. Then when I arrive at school it gets even worse. People who don't even know me are calling me tubby, or fat. All I can think to myself is "why do they say these things to me they don't even know me?" I keep telling myself that I'm not, and that I am perfect. By the time I leave school I am telling myself that I am fat and I am not perfect.


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From: Teresa
This is my story...
 
Hello my name is Teresa I know the termoil that some of us went though as children. I am 28 years old and weigh 320 pounds when I was a small child I was a normal weight. I started gaining weight when I was around age 7 or 8. I alway had problems with other kids picking on me my sister would always have to interfere and tell other kids to leave me alone so I was never really able to stand up for myself. I was always afraid to get involved in the play days or the track and field day events due to being a big kind and always worrying is anyone watching me cause I didnt like getting made fun of. I was made fun of as a kid and I believe to this day that my weight as a child and my weight as an adult has held me back in this world out in the job force and in public as well. I still get remarks to this day from teenagers and children who call me fat or lard Ass things like that then it just makes me feel like crawling into a ball and wishing I were at home where I can be away from the remarks and the stares. Anyway just wanted to vent how I feel. I love to meet people and would love to meet more people but being the way I am its hard to meet people and be the popular person.

Anyway thanks again
Teresa :)


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From: Mackenzie
This is my story...
 
During my early childhood, I was a very skinny little girl. I remember my mother always having to force me to eat. The reason I never ate much was because I had other things on my mind, like riding my bicycle, playing with my doll, coloring, etc. However, as I got older, I started enjoying food more and more. I found myself having a big appetite and when it was time to eat, I was always holding my plate out, ready to be served. My mother is an excellent cook and she always made delicious food. She made dinner six days a week and on Friday's, we would all go out to eat. Friday's were the days I ate wing dings and french fries and pizza. But I never over ate. I had three meals a day and snacks in between, just like any normal person. I will admit, I loved junk food and lots of times, I would be chowing down on a chocolate bar, or cake, or ice cream, but I was just a little kid! Being young is about eating lots of junk food. I never had a problem with my weight or others teasing me until I entered the fifth grade. We all had to go to the nurse's office to get weighed. So, I sauntered into her office and stepped on the scale. And when I looked at the numbers that showed up, I nearly died. I was 10 years old and 98 pounds at a height of 4'11. This discovery triggered a thought inside of my mind... a thought that would torture me for years to come: I was fat! I went around to all of the other girls and asked them their weights. They all weighed atleast 15 pounds less than me. I compared myself to them and felt like they were much better than me. Up until that point, I was an ordinary child who loved life. However, I suddenly developed this deep hatred for myself. I spent the rest of the year going around and complaining about my weight. I would constantly say, "I'm so fat!" and the other kids would assure me that I wasn't, but I didn't believe them. I figured that they were just trying to be nice. Sixth grade was more of the same. I complained some more, compared myself to all the "thin" girls, and hated myself even more. By the time seventh grade rolled around, I had absolutely no self esteem. I stopped complaining about my weight. Instead, I just kept quiet about it. That was the year that I noticed how the other kids would point and laugh and whisper things about me. They would treat me badly and be very cruel to me. I was, in their eyes, a social outcast. I only had a few friends. I began hating school and everyone there. In January of 2000, things took a turn for the worse. I remember eating spaghetti one night with my family. A few hours later, I decided to have another bowl of it. My dad commented that I was being a "pig". I was very hurt by his ignorance and that is when a light flicked on in my head; I decided to do something about it. Quietly, I walked up the stairs and into the bathroom. I knelt down in front of the toilet and stuck my finger down my throat. I gagged, but nothing came up. So I did it again, except harder and faster. I gagged and felt something coming up. So, I rammed my finger down my throat and my spaghetti came back up and flew into the water. I continued to do this until I had thrown up all of the spaghetti. I started inducing vomiting on myself and it became a frequent habit. By the time March came around, I had officially become bulimic. I was ruining my body, but I didn't care. I became obsessed with throwing my food up so that I could be thin and look just like a supermodel. I never lost any weight, though. If anything, I gained. Nobody knew about my eating disorder until my sister caught me throwing up one day. She kept it a secret for a while, but ended up telling my mother. My parents discussed it and decided that they were going to have me put in the hospital. I got very scared and decided to stop making myself throw up. I managed to quit, but it was extremely difficult. When I started eigth grade, my life became a hell. All the kids teased me. I was sexually harassed by a boy who would pretend to like me just as a joke. Another boy would come up to me in the halls and say, "Move it, fatty!". My parents weren't exactly caring. My dad called me a blimp and once, when we went out to eat, I ordered some chicken. My dad said, "You had better watch what you eat because you'll get big." I rolled my eyes and said, "I don't care what you say! When I am older, I will be a famous actress and I will be on the front cover of TV Guide." My dad laughed and said, "Yeah, they'll need two magazines to fit YOU on the cover!" My mom, sister and brother all laughed at this. I shrugged my shoulders and pretended like I didn't care, but I really did. Eigth grade went on and it got even worse. When the year ended, I decided to spend my summer locked away in the house. I just wanted to be left alone. A few weeks before I began high school, my mom told me that I was fat and that if I didn't lose weight, the kids at school would tease me. I ignored her. Well, when my freshman year of high school started, I went feeling kind of confident. I had a few friends and enjoyed my classes. However, my new feeling of confidence was shattered within a few months. One day in Algebra, this boy who was a major drug addict, yelled, "Hey, Mackenzie!" I turned around and saw him extending his arms outward and puffing his cheeks up. The entire room burst out in laughter. I honestly did not understand what he was doing. I just laughed and turned back around. Well, when the bell rang, my friend came up to me and said, "You know, that boy was teasing you. He was saying that you are fat and ugly and everyone was laughing." I suddenly felt very crushed and spent the rest of the day quiet and withdrawn. I convinced myself that tomorrow would be alright, but I was so wrong. Everyday in Algebra, that boy would yell stuff at me and tease me and everyone in the room laughed! Nobody stuck up for me, which really hurt. Some of the kids even joined in and poked fun at me, too. I felt like I was on my own. I remember one day, the boy shouted, "Look it's Godzilla! Oh no wait, that's Mackenzie." He came up to me one day in study hall and said, "BLIMP!". He would talk about me to other people and said that I looked like a whale. We had to do square dancing in gym and, of course, I got stuck in his group. He begged the teacher to let him switch to another group, but the teacher said no. I had to dance with this really short guy from and the mean guy told the short guy, "Hey, you better watch out! Mackenzie might rip you right out of those little pants of your's with all of her blubber." I just ignored him and did what I was supposed to. I thought that maybe he would leave me alone but I was wrong. He told my friend, "I had to dance with Mackenzie in gym today. I fucking hate that fat piece of shit!" I was very hurt by this, and I continued to endure his painful emotional abuse. I didn't even fight back because I really couldn't say anything. I was a fat girl, and I had nothing and no one to defend me. So I just took it and I let him step all over me and break me. I would go home everyday and cry my eyes out. Luckily, he got kicked out of school by the time Christmas rolled around, and I felt safe. Of course, there were others who followed in his footsteps and teased me. By the time my freshman year had ended, I was so extremely depressed and I was full of so much self-hatred. I spent my summer hiding away in my house. A few weeks before school started, I found myself terrified. I didn't want to go back to that place. I cried and cried and cried. Then, it was time for me to begin my sophomore year. I went to my first class, Geometry, and guess who was in it? None other than the ignorant boy who teased me my freshman year! They let him back in school. And, as the day progressed, I learned that this boy was in most of my classes. I knew the year was going to be awful. But so far, he hasn't said anything remotely mean to me. But I know he will. Even though he isn't teasing me, there still are other people who tease me. I recently got into a fight with my former best friend and she said, "You're a bitch! Lose some weight," and walked away. Then, when my best friend heard about this, she went after the girl. She threw spit balls in the girl's hair. The girl turned around and said, "Just because I'm not friends with fat ass Mackenzie doesn't mean you have to be rude to me!" Well, my best friend said, "You just wait, the next time I see you outside of school, I am going to beat your ass!" My best friend is the only one of my friends that actually stuck up for me. All of my other so-called "friends" just listened to that girl insult me and they didn't do a damn thing about it. They didn't even defend me! It took this incident to make me realize who my true friends really are. I now only have one best friend, but she is amazing and I love her like a sister. She watches my back and I watch her's. Well, this girl called me later that night and poured out apology after apology. I forgave her, as I don't like bearing grudges, but I told her that I would never forget how cruel she was to me. She and I haven't spoken since then. Well, a few weeks ago, I got into a fight with another one of my "friends". She blamed me for spreading a rumor about her, which isn't true at all. She was also saying mean things about my best friend. So, my best friend told her to leave us both alone. My best friend also told this girl, "I think you're too fat for your clothes and you look orange because you tan too much!" Well, this girl said, "I'm not fat! Look at Mackenzie, she is twice the size of me." Ouch! I didn't do anything about it, though. I just decided to let it go. To make matters worse, all of the people who were supposed to be my friends have become best friends with this girl and they don't even care about the mean stuff she said to me. But whatever. And, oh yeah, the other day at lunch, I decided to go to my locker. Well, I was standing there, putting my books away, when I heard some stuff being shouted behind me. I didn't pay any attention to it because I thought I was just being paranoid. However, when I turned around, I saw a table full of guys looking at me and laughing, and one of the guys was yelling, "MOO!". I just gave them a really mean look and walked back to my table. I didn't even bother telling anyone about this, either. It's just too embarassing. I don't know why those boys did that to me. I never even did anything to them! Also, my older sister is absolutely beautiful. She is tall, thin, pretty, athetic and one of the most popular girls in her grade. She has all of these boys chasing after her. Kids from my grade who don't like me are friends with my sister. It's awful. One girl called me fat and ugly and said that I would be much prettier if I looked like my sister. Another saw me at a football game and said, "Whoa! That can't be ------'s sister because she is so fat!" My nephews have even called me fat. My four year old nephew once told me that I was too fat to wear a bathing suit. Let me tell you, that hurts. I no longer talk to people. I just walk through the halls in school with my head down. I keep to myself. I feel so out of place at school. I have withdrawn deep into myself and am pretty depressed. I hate school and I hate life. I doubt that things will ever change for me. At the moment, I am 5'4 and 168 pounds and a size 13. That is really disgusting, isn't it? Oh well. Things are never going to change.


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From: Tom F.
This is my story...
 
I never realized I was "fat" until attending kindegarten in Clinton Massachusetts when I was dancing in front of the entire grammar school in a christmas production of the nutcracker. The front button on my courduroy pants had broken open and my protruding belly was exposed to the entire audience. From that point on I was ridiculed incessantly by everyone in school. To this day whenever I even hear the soundtrack to the nutcraker I well up with tears. I am 30 years old and studying to be a lawyer. Even today as I try to become a lawyer I am tormented by comments from other students. (I made the mistake of removing my shirt at a couple of law school outings.)
It is hard to believe adults would act this way! I really find flaws in a society such as ours that has such an emphasis on physical attributes, and my goal as a lawyer will be to try and reverse some of these injustices.


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From: BigBruce
This is my story...
 
If you're a fat boy and you hate gym class, I know what you're going through. I'm 15 and it's the worst thing about school right now. My weight has always been a problem, but I realize that I'm really getting fat. I weigh about 260. It doesn't really bother me all the time, except for when it draws peoples attention to me. Like in gym class, or more specifically in the locker room. I hate when I have to change or shower there, because I know what always ends up happening. Everybody points at me and makes rude remarks or jestures. There's one boy who always tries to slap me or hit my backside or pat my belly in the open shower because "it makes such a great sound". Its totally humiliating. I'm not the only fat kid in the group - there is one guy whos like 14 and just HUGE - hes so fat his belly hangs over to his hips, and he has to wear like sweat pants over it all but you can still see the fat. He also gets teased a lot -it must be bad being that fat. I just wish people would leave me alone. If this sounds like what you go through at school, just know there are lots of us fat guys in the same boat.


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From: Anonymous
This is my story...
 
Still in school, the times are not that bad and so I guess I'm lucky.
In the early elementary school years, I was skinny. No one thought I would end up fat. Later in elementary school, the health teacher weighed us and I turned out to be at a weight that was not over weight, but it wouldn't hurt if I lost about 3 pounds. Later on, in the Middle School my weight dramatically increased. I was starting to like all the foods that were bad for me, and hating the foods that were good for me.
Luckily, some of my friends are also over weight, but they do not get teased. One of them is actually very secessful with boys, still overweight, but she has the greatest luck with all the new fashions and many boys are drawn to her beauty and sense of humor. The boys do not care aobut her weight. I wish I could say the same for me. I way about 15 pounds more then my friend does, and that of course makes a big difference. I can't ever recall someone calling me a horrid name in my face, but on the bus I've heard whispers behind my back.
I am not however the fattest child in my grade. The ones who are more fatter than I are very much teased.
My friends never tell me to loose weight, but I know they'd wish I wasn't so fat. I can remember a remark my friend said earlier this year, on a bus to a school trip. We sat in the back of the bus, and it was me, my friend, and a person who is very much liek a good friend to me. We sat in the back and naturally I had to sit on the outside. However the seat was very tired and my friend was not comfortable. She begged that I switch seats with another one of my friends, but I refused. She then began to compare me to another of my friends who happens to be much much more skinnier then I. Though I'm sure she didn't intend to hurt my feelings, my friend said I was a tree compared to my friend she called a stick. And she called me a big marble, and my friend a small marble. Now that hurt my feelings, because she was insulting how big I was compared to my friends.
I can only hope to loose weight as my doctor has told me I am in fact overweight and I am in need of much more excercise. I wish I had continued to take soccer like I had in elementary school, and if I had I wouldn't probably way as much as I do now.
I hate school gym, and though required it is a nightmare for me. I hate to run and I always fail the mile run my school has.
Of course my friends brag about how they make or almost make all psychical phitness tests that are held, when I can only say I beat less then half. I only beat the very easy ones and I can't really say I beat them, I make it on the number that is the limit to suceed.
I'm ashamed of that and I hope I can find some way to become more active. I do not want to enter highschool still being fat.


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From: Kelsie
This is my story...
 
I am 13 years old and i weight 164lbs. You might not think its that big but to me i am huge. I am made fun of all the time. All of the guys in my class call me fatty and hippo behind my back. My friends (tring to help) tell me what they are saying, but it only makes me feel worse. I have been tring to lose weight for along time now but nothing happens. I wonder if i will be big all my life. And the worst part of all is that every one in my class is thiner than me!!! I hate being big!!!!!


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From: Cathy
This is my story...
 
As I look over some of the other stories on this web site, so many experiences ring true to my own childhood. Like every other chubby kid out there, I was made fun of, teased by family and peers alike, made to feel inferior and was plagued with self-disgust and the belief that I somehow "deserved" this treatment because of my weight. However,looking back on these experiences as an adult, I can clearly see God's hand in the person it has shaped me to be: Having been the butt of cruel jokes, I'll NEVER inflict that pain on another human being. Having seen that my tormenters learned their jobs so well from their parents (and yes, that's exactly where they learned it), I'll NEVER allow my children to think it's okay to say hurtful things "all in good fun", because it's not fun for at least one person involved. When I got to high school I was a fairly popular person, having learned that fat chicks have to be funny to be accepted, and then allowing the sense of humor that had been hiding under my pudge to show. This may have gotten me invited to all the social events, and made me friends with quite a few of my peers, but it still didn't attract any of the 17 yr. old boys. Looking back now, that was a blessing in disguise also. Too many of my "pretty" classmates were making June wedding arrangments for themselves and the captain of the football team, pushing strollers down the graduation isle, or had no plans at all (thinking they could contiue to get by on their pretty faces). I didn't end up in any of these categories, thanks to my chub, and I'm eternally grateful. I'm now mature enough to know what love looks like, and know the difference between love and infatuation. I know the kind of impact my decisions will make on my life, and am responsible enough to make the correct ones. I didn't get myself in over my head at a young age, and was able to wait to make adult decisions until I was an adult. Sure, there was a lot of pain in my childhood because of my fat. However, there's a lot of temperance, patience, empathy, freedom and happiness in my adult life because of that same fat. It's all in how you look at it. Happiness is a decision, no matter what your size.


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From: Brendon
This is my story...
 
I'm a 12-year old boy who weighs 178 pounds.I've always been fat,but this year is the first year I've experienced very painful teasing.A couple jerks on the bus home from school decided to call me every cruel name they could think of,and say nasty,hurtful things like "How about you go home and eat all the twinkies you want and hopefully you'll die from some 'fat disease'"We have assighned seats,and I sat next to my popular crush.To add to the embarrasment,she started laughing too and cracking jokes.I felt like crying,but that would just give them a whole new reason to make fun of me.I'm gonna start trying to lose weight,doubting that it will work.


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From: Crimson Stained Lips
This is my story...
 
They spit on me. They kicked me. They threw food at me and called me "lard ass." They followed me home, their snickers and taunts trailing me from behind until the slam of my front door shut them out. They hissed in my ear about how i should go on a diet and then, when i finally did, they teased me about that, too. "Look, fat ass is on a diet. ha ha ha fat ass."
i wanted to disappear, so i did. It was no longer about looking good, because even in my unhealthy state of mind, i never thought i looked good as a skeleton. It was simply about becoming invisible so that no one could see me. Now that i'm invisible, all i want is to be heard; heard but not seen. Sticks and stones, right? i can guarantee, though, words hurt more. My physical scars have healed. Their shoe prints and spit no longer adorn my body as a badge of dishonor. And yet, it's their words that have followed me into adultood, tieing knots in my stomache and forcing up every bit of food that enters. With each purge, i flush their words down the toilet, along with a half digested chocolate malt tinted with crimson red, a bloody reminder of my past, acting as a contrast to my sickly pale skin. As a child, Mia (bulimia) was my only friend. i never thought my friend would, or could, kill me. At this point i no longer care. All i want is to get this message across to everyone who is willing to listen (read) and even those who aren't. Be careful what you say. Words can kill.


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From: R G W
This is my story...
 
I was a fat kid, starting from about 7th Grade on. In High School, I absolutely was horrified at gym class, having to shower with everyone. One time during the rope climb exercise, I was taunted by the jocks in my class and told that I could not get my fat butt up the rope. I was in a rage and went up that rope as fast or faster than any of them. The problem was coming down, as I could not get a good grip on the rope and burned my hands quite badly.

As an adult, I have been in shape for about 25% of the time, 75% "fat" I notice that when I lose weight, I have friends and aquaintances say things like "you were really huge" and even hurtful comments that were obviously kept inside of them when I was bigger. Also, some would comment when they saw a fat person in a negative way, which is something they did not do when I was bigger. Being fat sucks in many ways, but I know that it has given me a balance when I trend toward being judgemental toward others.


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From: Formally known as Big Cheese
This is my story...
 
I look at these memories and both see myself and cannot relate at all at the same time. I wasn't really born overweight nor did a disability hurt my ability to exercise. From what I can tell, I started gaining weight after my parents split up and my grandmother came to live with us. For the few years, I was fine until 4th grade or so when I noticed that not only was I was the tallest girl in the grade, but I was also gaining weight (I remember girls on the track team asking me how much I weighed and the number was 136. They looked traumatized) . (Note that it wasn't all together my fault. My father and grandmother both come from a Southern family where food is a big thing and I had a strange fondness for bologna sandwiches every single day after school). It didn't help my position in school that I've always been a bit of a weirdo. One of my good friends is what one would have considered "trailer trash," but we supported each other. I have always had the feeling of being left out, which to this day, follows me. Several times over the summer, people I had never met before tortured me. I've had my back used as a springboard in swimming pool (might I add, when I was underwater), had chili peppers shoved down my throat and dirt thrown at me. All because I was fat? Could be....
Hell raised into the Earth when middle school rolled around. I was always kind of awkard - I still am in a lot of ways. In sixth grade, I became very self-conscious mainly because of a girl named Sara. Sara was a girl smaller than me only in height. Weight-wise, she was also what one might call "chubby," but Sara seemed to have a better time fitting in because her parents had bigger bank accounts, she had "cooler" clothes, and she was also a bit manipulative. Sara was one of those friends that I seemed to attract a lot during middle school - the kind that would extort money from you, and, when no one else would hang out with them, hang out with you and insult you. She became convinced I owed her money and flipped me off everyday when she got off the bus. It got to point where she came over to my house, told my father that I owed her money and had him write a check for it. (A couple days later, her mom dragged her back over to give the check back. She claimed "My mom felt sorry for your dad.") She also helped start the torture on the bus. I developed much earlier than everyone else - my breasts also were quite large for a sixth grader, though they now are what many guys call "perfect." She got the guys started on calling me Pamela Anderson Lee (this followed me also through middle school) and saying I had footballs under my shirt. She also instilled in me much of the inner critizism and fear that I can still hear inside my own head. "You'll never get a boyfriend." "No one will ever love you!" and, of course, many people also told me to leave my choir class (my favorite class, even today) and transfer to another school. That year was the first time I also became depressed for the first time. That has also lasted to this day. In seventh grade, I was seriously considering suicide. Everyone was telling me I wasn't worth anything living, so why bear the pain anyway? My gym clothes had been stolen and many of my "friends" betrayed me.

Something stopped me though and later that year, I met my first boyfriend, who is still a good friend today. He was a mainly on-line boyfriend, but when I told him I was overweight, he told me I was wonderful because I was "cuddly." That is one of the greatest compliments I've ever recieved. Eigth grade was much better. I restored my faith in God and had true friends for the most part. My self-esteem was still pretty low, but I had enough courage to apply (and get into!) an Art school for vocal music. But I never got to attend because the summer before my freshman year of high school, i was diagnosed with bone cancer when visting my mom in California. I suffered for a year, but survived with all limbs intact. I started writing more (I had started writing seriously when I was 12, but didn't start showing others until 8th) and am now an accomplished songwriter/poet. When I returned to a regular high school (the art school couldn't take me when I couldn't attend) to most of the people I've grown up with, things were quite a bit different. I wasn't as concerned about clothes as I was (I was never into fashion) and I found music helped save my sanity. I also started to be apathetic about other's comments, particularly about my weight (althouhg I lost most of my weight when going through chemotherapy, I gained a lot back) I'm 17 now and am attending both high school and the local comminuty college. I am still somewhat overweight (at 32% fat, but 123 lbs of LBM), but the only negative comment I've recieved about my weight has been from an ex-boyfriend, who was emotionally abusive anyway, thus making his comment null and void. In fact, of the many guys I know at the moment, none of them will even let me call myself fat. A good friend, who I once dated and is training to be a personal trainer has commented that I am probably more healthy than most people. But, I try not to go on what others say. That's kind of what started this all in the first place. You shouldn't let a scale mesaure your worth. You should be healthy and happy - not what everyone tells you to be. Cool clothes are not gonna change your life, only you can do that. Stand up and be proud! Weirdos of the universe unite!


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From: Karen
This is my story...
 
To me school didn't mean education or support. It didn't mean opportunity or growth. It meant torture and ridicule, harassment and humiliation. It meant getting up everyday and facing the worse sort of death. The death of my self worth and happiness. The even slower death of my dreams and aspirations. I started gaining weight in the third grade. By the forth grade I was very heavy. That is the year I refer to as the demolition of my self esteem foundation. I don't remember the first time somebody called me fat. I just remember a hurricane of torment coming out of nowhere and knocking me to the ground. To the ground, where I’ve been ever since.
I came to school one day, having been absent the previous day, and learned that we had a substitute teacher when I was sick and everyone got their preferred names or nicknames written in thick black permanent markers on name tags taped to their desks. When I went over to my desk I saw to my horror the words "BACON GREASE" plastered across it. Then I looked up and slowly realized the other children were standing around watching me. They had been waiting for me to see it, holding in their laughter. I asked the girl sitting next to me “Anne” why this name was here. She said the class had picked it for me in my absence because that‘s the name I answer to. She said the substitute teacher thought it was funny. I was humiliated. I didn't know what to say or how to react. I felt my ears burning and I sat down. I was too embarrassed to tell our teacher, I didn't want them to think they had gotten to me. And so ensued the cycle that would be my demise. Their cruel pranks, and my best attempt at nonchalant ness. I refused to let them see me cry.
I came in from recess a few weeks later and discovered my spelling work book had disappeared from inside my desk. The next day I came to school and my workbook had mysteriously materialized back into my desk. I opened up the book and saw what they had done. They had taken a fat magic marker and wrote the words "FAT" on the front page, then I turned to the next page and it said "UGLY" and the next page said "FAT" and the next again "UGLY" they had ruined my entire spelling book from the first page to last. The words were written so big they covered each entire page. I was breathless and again slowly noticed the children all looking over at me waiting for my reaction. I slowly closed my desk and deposited my spelling book in the garbage on the way out for recess. I cried alone on the playground. Away from prying eyes and snickers. I started to think that something must be wrong with me. None of the other children were being treated this way. Somehow, I knew it must be my fault.
Days and weeks passed, the teasing was horrible on some days and less horrible on others. Christmas was fast approaching and I finally felt I had something to look forward to. The class Christmas party was fast approaching and we were participating in a "random" gift exchange. You bring presents for girls or boys or either. Then a girl and a boy the teacher picked got to "randomly" hand them out. "Anne" was chosen as usual, and a popular boy "Robbie". They were whispering and laughing in the back of the room. Each gift was handed out and I “happened” to be the last person to receive one. Finally Anne dropped the package on my desk , smiled down at me and said “Merry Christmas”. I thought she was being nice and sincere. She made me feel like a million dollars when she talked to me like a normal girl. I opened the present and saw a huge molded 10lb chocolate Garfield statue. With the words "Eat Up Fat-Ass!" written across the top of the box. I looked around and again realized everyone was looking and waiting. Finally when they could contain their laughter no longer, they let it out. It was loud and it seemed to echo for a thousand years. My teacher was clueless. I stuffed the chocolate into my bag and fought back the tears like I had done so many times before. I was getting angry at myself for being so weak. For being so fat. I was angry at myself for not standing up to them, but at the same time I felt deep down I deserved their torture. It was my fault I was fat.
January passed slowly and I became more withdrawn and sad. I came into class after recess one afternoon and noticed our teacher was not yet there. The other were kids were standing around talking, nothing seemed unusual. I went down to sit at my desk, then it happened. I sat down and the chair fell off the desk and the desk itself toppled over. I fell backwards and felt shooting pains down my back. The entire class was roaring with laughter shouting taunts of " you're so fat you broke the desk!" and "have you ever seen someone so fat that metal couldn't even hold them?" When I noticed none of my books where inside the desk I realized what they had done. I had sat down in the broken desk had been sitting in the back of the classroom collecting dust for week and a group of 10 year-old children decided it was the formula for the perfect prank. My desk was in the very last row at the back of the room making switching easy and unnoticeable. They had put my name tag on it and carefully placed it where my normal desk was. You know those moments in life where time passes slowly, and every second ticks on for eternity? This was one of those moments. I felt like I was outside myself watching someone else lying there in humiliation. And for the first time, I let them see me cry.
I went home that day in despair and my mother consoled me. She never told me to ignore them. She told me to stand up for myself, she told me to not let them control how I feel. Easy words to say, but for a fat 10 year old girl, impossible words to comprehend, but I was determined to try.
It became apparent that my teacher had trouble getting back to the classroom most days after recess and lunch. I began dreading those few minutes without his supervision. I walked in on one of those days with my head held high. Trying to put on a brave face though I knew they had been planning something all day. I walked in and the whole class minus maybe five kids were standing in a group. They all yelled at me and said " Hey Karen! J-E-L-L-O!" As they chanted the familiar jingle at me they all threw their arms in the air and began shaking their bodies uncontrollably. Then the familiar laughter and insults followed. I crumpled up into a ball in my mind and pretended I was someone else, anyone else. I hated them with every inch of my being and at the same time, I fantasized about them being my best friends. I just wanted them to stop, I wanted it all to stop, so I decided to take my mother’s advice and stand up for myself. I told my teacher about the cruel pranks and begged him to make them stop. His response was remarkable. “Well, kids will be kids, I will talk to them about the teasing but you really should learn to get along better with others.”
He didn’t even punish my classmates, he merely gave them a "treat others how you would want to be treated" speech. The next day at lunch I was outside on the playground I went to the farthest corner of the fence to eat. Suddenly I was being grabbed and pushed by several students. Seven of my classmates grabbed me from behind and pushed me up to the corner of the fence. I then watched in disbelief as they pulled out jump ropes and glared at me with looks of utter and complete contempt on their faces. Three older boys held me down and the girls, led by Anne, tied me to the fence while five others stood around me so the playground supervisors couldn't see. Anne then spat in my face and told me to keep my big fat mouth shut. She took my lunch apart piece by piece sticking it in my pockets, smashing it into my hair and rubbing all over my clothes. I was scared, I started sobbing and screaming but nobody noticed. The bell finally rang and the kids ran for the door, leaving me tied up, covered in food, spit, and dirt. One of the supervisors finally saw heard me screaming and ran up to untie me. She and the principal demanded to know who had done this to me but I refused to tell. I was afraid and ashamed, I felt I had brought it on myself, and I felt, even at the age of ten, that from that day on I was never going to be normal, I would always be different, engaging in a constant battle with myself and the world around me.
I have a million humiliating moments imprinted on my soul. Things teachers and other kids parents said, junior high, high school. The torment never stopped and these moments slowly took on a life of their own creating another victim of poor self image and fear of rejection. When people tell you something enough times, even if you don't want to, you begin to believe it. That’s when being fat becomes being worthless. My weight is the first thing I think about when I wake up in the morning and the last thing I think about when I go to bed at night. It has consumed every inch of my soul, every breath of my spirit. I’m twenty two years old and I've never even been kissed. I return men's advances with a cold shoulder or a joke about myself because that is how I learned to cope with life. I had to make them laugh with me before they could laugh at me. At least that way I’m in control. If the opportunity arises to degrade myself for a cheap laugh I take it, time and time again. I laugh at myself all day long, but when I go home at night and look in the mirror I know there‘s nothing to laugh about. I feel like a mutant, like a freak, like a human defect that will never be “good enough“ or “normal“. To put it simply, I am damaged goods. The damage wasn’t to my body where scrapes heal and blood dries up, it was to my heart, where wounds run deep and scars don't fade. Suddenly one day I woke up and realized I had become a shadow of my former self. I have built up walls of bitterness and isolation around me and the worst part is, I feel like it’s the only way I can spare my heart of anymore pain.
I know those years will always be with me, haunting me, lying dormant below the surface threatening to erupt at any moment in a sea of emptiness and verbal poison, but I have to remember, I can’t change who I was, without changing who I have become. I think my experiences being a fat kid and an obese adult have taught me to how deceiving appearances can be. I know who my true friends are, and I know deep down inside that someday I will break free from the mental prisons I have put myself in. I just have to believe I deserve it.


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From: Bridey
This is my story...
 
I got fat when I started to develop, at 9 years old, and have been fat ever since. (I was a C-cup in fourth grade, and what I went through being the only girl in grade school to wear a bra is a whole story in itself.)

I was already a socially backward child, and becoming fat solidified my outcast position. It gave the creeps an obvious thing to target -- and, more critically, it gave the adults an excuse not to intervene. When I was just a strange child, an adult would occasionally step in to protect me from the sharks. Once I was fat, that stopped. After all, if I would just lose the weight, nobody would make fun of me, right?

But in junior high, this backward fat chick went out for drama -- and I am astonished, in retrospect, that I had the courage. And we did a play that called for a narrator. The teacher said it could be either a boy or a girl, so I tried out. And did it well -- well enough that even the people in class who regularly harassed me me were temporarily silenced, and one or two were even complimentary.

Well, a day later the teacher showed me how long the part was and asked if I was sure I could learn it. I said I was, and I was really excited, sure that meant I'd be getting the part.

And when the teacher cast the play, he gave the role to a good-looking boy who hadn't auditioned nearly as well and, with a sneering "Sorry, Bridey," cast me as a "townswoman" with no lines. The boy who got the part actually apologized to me.

Of course, the teacher was trying to scare me off by showing me how long the part was. Seems that when he said a girl could get the part, he didn't mean a fat girl.

And that was the first thing I wanted, and earned, that I didn't get just because I was fat. Not the last, of course, and far from the most important. But it was, as far as I can recall, the first.


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From: Sarah
This is my story...
 
When I was 11, my grandmother (the grand dame of the family) made the decision to transfer me from my urban elementary school to a slightly less urban "middle school academy", complete with corporate talk of "academic excellence" and mandatory uniforms for all students.

I was already well over 150 pounds (and about 5'1) at that time, and consequently unable to fit into child-sized clothing anymore. My grandmother was the kind of person who believed that there was such a thing as "the largest possible size", and if you couldn't fit into this arbitrary size (16 or 18), you had to force it. You had to squeeze yourself into these tiny clothes because otherwise, you'll have to start ordering out of SPECIAL catalogs or shopping at the most shameful place in existence, LANE BRYANT.

Of course, I believed all her fatphobic propaganda.

She drove me to a little family owned uniform shop and I was told that the largest size of the uniform pieces I needed were a child's size 18. The pants were so tight and stiff that I had to lie down to get them on in the dressing room, but I lied to my grandma and told her they fit fine because I was too ashamed to tell her the truth. As far as I was concerned, the size 18s were my only option.

I wore the pants and the shirts (which fit slightly better, because they were stretchy) to school for about a month, until the day I bent over and the inner thigh seams on both legs split.

I panicked and knew there was no way I could replace them, so I resorted to putting on a pair of similarly colored shorts under the ripped pants, thinking no one would notice.

Much to my dismay, that day was gym class, which involved sitting on the floor and doing calisthenics. I tried to keep my hands in my lap as much as I could, but there was only so much I could do and of course, everyone noticed.

"Your pants are ripped!"

"Why don't you buy some pants that fit?!"

All I could do was try not to cry and say "I know. I should." Try to laugh it off, like I had plenty more pants at home.


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From: monica
This is my story...
 
Junior high was hell for me. Not only was I going through a rough time at home (parents divorcing, constant moving and shuffling around, etc.) but I was being constantly harassed at school. I was already self concious and felt bad about my weight but EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. at school I was reminded of my "fatness" and teased about it.

One of the harshest memories is being "mooooed" at in the hall as I would walk down. It would come from everywhere. Also, the kids thought it was oh so clever to turn my name Monica into "Moni-Cow."

On my birthday in 8th grade, my friends decorated my locker with a poster for people to sign and wish me Happy Birthday. There were a handful of nasty comments that ended up on my poster. (in reference to my weight.. calling me fat, telling me to call Jenny Craig, etc.) It was awful.

I can't say that all of that hell in Junior is completely to blame for my issues now, but I know it had a significant impact on me and still haunts me. I am now very underweight (diagnosed with anorexia) and have been fighting anorexia/bulimia for 8 years.

Words hurt. A lot. And people need to know that they can stick around and echo in people's heads for years after.


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From: ladyloo
This is my story...
 
Conan. Sherman Tank. Cow. Moo'ed at from a moving car. Asked out on a date in the hallway as a joke. Tormented. Laughed at. Whispered about. I'm amazed at the sense of entitlement these people had - these kids who made my school years a living hell. Being six feet tall at age 13 is not a good time. Developing at a rate that terrified me, and had me wailing at my mother, "What is happening to my body?!" Hips, thighs, boobs at eye level of all the boys in school. I was an outsider, the new kid, from away. It was middle school in a small town. Jokes at my expense constantly. "Accidents" where I would be hit in the head with baseballs in gym class, or tripped, or shoved into walls.Complete social isolation and ostracization. Children are cruel, and adults ineffective.


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From: Lexie- Big and Proud
This is my story...
 
“Big girl.” I’ve always been a “big girl,” except for, perhaps, when I was born- tipping the scales at 4 pounds, 9 ounces. A premature baby destined to be a “big girl.”
In kindergarten, I came home weeping after a girl threw mud on me and called me names. The teacher loaned me a book entitled Don’t Call Me Fatso; I loved it. I thought, in my young age, maybe I could lose weight and be happy like the girl in the book. I was only half wrong.
I was always a loner. I liked to read and never had many friends. Throughout elementary school I was called a dog, a fatso; O, yes and my personal favorite- jellyroll. It never seemed like much of an insult to me: A jellyroll was sweet and filled with tart, tangy fruit… It’s not so bad to be compared to that. During my elementary school days, my very supportive mother would sew me clothing in uniform colors so that I didn‘t have to wear the tight, unflattering clothes. She was quite upset at my coming home everyday in tears and taught me a truth so resounding that I can never forget it. She told me to tell the children who teased me “You’re making fun of me because you don’t like yourself.” The realization of how true this is shocked me and I used it often.
In junior high my tormentors learned curse words. Now, I was a fat bitch. Quite the upgrade, isn’t it? I dreaded health classes because I knew, sooner or later, we’d talk about the food pyramid and I could feel all eyes on me. Their stares could have burnt a hole in my back if they each had the strength of just one lit match. One day, after class, a boy who was in a few of my classes waited outside the classroom for me. When he saw me, he threw raisins and M&Ms at me. He called me a whale and told me he was surprised that a fat girl like me wasn’t eating the food up from the ground. Boys often pushed their buddies over to me and said “Hey, isn’t that your girlfriend?” while their buddies scrambled to stay away from me.
High school… was… high school. My freshman year, a kid called me fat and kicked me in the back of the knees and made me fall while walking up the stairs. Other than that, not too bad, I suppose, except for my junior and senior years. During my junior and senior years there was a boy… one boy… that I had to walk past every day. (We passed each other on a thin suspended walk-way between two buildings.) He would walk by me and say something sexual, something mean. And I would ignore him. It didn’t stop. So I started to stand back and wait for him to pass and when he was gone, I’d go to class. Once, I just got fed up with him and asked him what his problem was. He ran. He was such a coward that he wouldn’t even face the little, fat chick he was teasing. I had gone to my counselor before this occasion and I went after. I paid 2 or 3 visits to my counselor who did nothing but watch me weep.
My senior year, it started up again. I had to walk past where he and his troop stood to get to my class. As I walked, I would get a sexual comment, whoops and cat calls, teasing and a group of about 2 or 3 confronting me. At one point, the boy had a cone used to make your voice louder that was handed out during a foot ball game. He called, “Free cock! Free cock!” And then, as I walked by, pointed the cone right in my face and shouted, “But not for you!”-as if I’d ever touch a thing as foul, as shriveled and ill as his penis. HA! He still wishes! But I still went to my counselor… and still… nothing was done. Once, I even went up to him and ended up surrounded by his friends as I besought him to have some balls and face me. He wouldn’t. Coward.
It really came to a head when I was walking to class and all of a sudden the boy ran up to me holding a piece of cardboard cut out in the shape of a knife and said “I’m going to fucking kill you!” and followed me to class growling. (Now that I look back on it, I should have slugged him and claimed self defense.) I went directly to my counselor the moment I knew the kid was gone. The counselor never did anything… so finally, my mom got in on it. I really didn’t want it to come to that, but nothing was being done. She wrote the principal and my counselor calling him out on his apathy for the situation. The dean of the school called me in and in the end the boy was expelled from the school, apparently he’d been in trouble before. I didn’t really want him to be expelled… that was just the school covering their ass because the counselor didn’t do his job. I just wanted to talk to the kid and let him know that I wasn’t going to take his shit. I just wanted it to stop. Unfortunately, because he was expelled, that wouldn’t be the last of my torment: His friends, angry because he was gone, took his place in harassing me.
It is good to know that I went into the my counselor’s office and let him know what a sorry excuse he was for a school worker. I told him he should quit his job because he didn’t deserve to go home every day thinking he made a young person’s life better when all he did was sit and watch them cry. I shouted at him. I told him that he was the reason my torture went on for so long. I told him that it could have been over the beginning of my junior year but I had to suffer until the end of my senior year because he refused to help. I told him that kids commit suicide when adults won’t actively help them. And when I reminded him that I had been in his office begging for help “a number of times” that year, he had the balls to say “two times.” I looked him in the eye and said “Two is a number, idiot. It should only take one.” In reality I had been in over 15 during the two school years.
Though my harassment and torture has scarred me, I can now look at myself and see a beautiful woman. I would not wish my pain on anyone, ever and hope we can educate young people about the beauty that all people have and warn them of the pain they can cause very easily. It’s taken a long time but I love myself and everything I stand for and I think all of you should too. The things I’ve gone through have cemented honorable traits in me, I think.
I’m fat and fine. Big and beautiful. Plump and pretty. Large and lovely. I’m also smart and creative and irresistibly cute. I’m glad I’m a big girl because now I can stand up against the world and say “HA! Dig this world! You’re not going to make me hide! You’re not going to make me cry! I’ve been through it all! You’re just going to have to learn to love me!” My friends, make the world love you too. I love you. The next step is to make sure you love you. The world will follow.


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From: Crimson
This is my story...
 
I just recently turned 24 which is pretty amazing for this still fat kid. I was a skinny kid until the summer before 3rd grade. I had never thought to judge those who were different from me I grew up in a very diverse neighborhood with parents who always taught me that everyone is special. I had difficulty fitting in even when I was thin because I was very clumsy and still am. When I started to gain weight my family, friends (the few I actually had), teachers as well as my doctors never thought much of it at first. It was all just "pre-growth spurt" fat. However my classmates jumped on the chance to make fun of the fat girl. It damaged my self esteem for years to come. For the most part teachers and parents tried to help protect me from the stabbing comments that got more painful and more complex as the years went on. The first time I tried to kill myself I was finishing up my 3rd grade year. We move to a supposedly better area after 4th grade and I thought of it as a fresh start and maybe I wouldn't be judged for the fat but for the me on the inside. Instead on my first day of 5th grade it was even worse. I was lucky for 5th and 6th grade I had very caring teachers who helped me build some esteem and helped me to view myself as person and not some repulsive blob. Jr. High got worse yet again with teachers who could barely even remember my name let alone make me feel like less of a freak. I tried killing myself several more time through out the rest of Jr. High and up to my Junior year in High School. I think one of the things that changed my mind about suicide was when one classmate looked at me and said "You are so fat and ugly no one will ever love you and you might as well kill yourself and put everyone out of the misery of having to see your fat ass." That comment didn't sting so much as it pissed me off to the point that I had the sudden desire to stay alive just to piss him off! My parents still don't know about my numerous attempts and really how depressed I was growing up. I feel much better about myself now because I have found plenty of people who love me for me and would if I were 250LBs or 150LBs (ideal weight for my height). I came across this page when just messing around with Google but I am so glad I got the chance to tell others some of the things I went through because of my weight.


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From: Anonymous
This is my story...
 
I have been fat since I was about six months old. I was a chubby kid and what would be considered now to be a curvy teenager. I was tormented for being fat so much that now when I look at me at age 15 or so, I wonder why they did - I was about a size 16, but totally suited for my height and bone structure, just a bit overweight. This was in the 70s.

When I was in the 6th grade - 11 years old - we had a party for leaving elementary school. Some of the boys had taken to calling me "the quake".

One of them had his mother iron on letters to the back of his tshirt - which said "Beware of the Quake". Everyone thought it was hysterical, teachers included (then again, they also participated in much of my torment). I even managed to take a photo of it, I was so horrified by what he'd done - I wanted proof.

Those grade school years shaped my thoughts about myself in ways none of those people could ever comprehend. That story is just the tip of the iceberg.


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