I was 11. Just 11. Had grown up in a small, southern town where we knew everyone. I was no different than the other kids. Then, my family moved to the Midwest - life changed instantly. I didn't know I had an "accent"; didn't know I was "fat", "ugly" - but, apparently I was. The 3 neighbor boys made sure I was reminded every day. They would yell names at me when I was inside the house....suffice to say, life was almost unbearable. Almost..but I survived. The next time we moved, to the East Coast, I was determined to be me, to be accepted for who I was, regardless. I learned the importance of tolerance....understanding that being different doesn't mean being less. Over 50 years later, I am strong in my self....teach others that they are also.
By writing some words below, you are showing your support and letting everyone know they're not alone.