The Day I Was Called “Fat@$$”

Lipstick & Whisky


About two weeks ago, I was minding my own business and walking from my sorority suite to my car parked in the senior parking on campus. I was walking next to one of the dorms, close to cars driving by. Walking with my head down, as usual, I heard someone yell, “FATASS!!!” and I turned to face a car of boys laughing and pointing to me as they drove away.

Now, I’m no Kate Moss size-wise here. My Grandpa played football as a tackle and my father played as a kicker/offensive-defensive linemen. I’m short and squatty because that’s how my father’s family is shaped (if you’ve read my previous post you know this is the side of the family I look the most alike, something my father apologizes for profusely).


My body has always been the bane of my existence. Never being athletic myself, I seem to be gifted the…

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