No one has ever called me fat.
A boy named Howard called me “bean pole” and “Mother Goose legs” in the 5th grade. I was skinny and my legs were long, in case the Mother Goose reference confused you.
(It still confuses me. I thought Mother Goose was an old woman who was not particularly tall. Tell me if I’m wrong.)
But I’ve never been called fat. Not even once. Unlike millions of other people, I bear no scars from fat-bashing bigots. Read More