I had just moved. New school. New people. New everything. It was summer, so when the new school year started, I didn’t know anybody. I felt eyes on me. Everybody wondered who I was and when I moved to “their” town.

I wasn’t the prettiest girl. I had long stringy hair, I was tall for my age and I was skinny. Gross skinny. I was so skinny kids thought I was anorexic. They called me names. Twig. Skyscraper. Anorexic. They told me to go eat a cheeseburger or a Snickers--but the thing was, I ate mass amounts of food. In sixth grade I started to keep food in the health room (because my lunch was later) and a couple weeks in the school year, I would get dizzy from low sugars. I ate snacks throughout the day so I wouldn’t pass out. They didn’t understand why I was so skinny, though.

“I have a fast metabolism,” I explained, as if they knew what that was.

When my parents found out what was going on at my new school, they had a meeting with the principal. At first I didn’t want the meeting to happen. I didn’t want to be called anorexic, but I also didn’t want the whole school to think I cried to my mommy and daddy.

But after a little time thinking, I realized, if I didn’t do anything, the same thing was going to happen to another little girl. So I let the meeting go on.

After the meeting, the principal and the health teacher had a meeting. In time, it was decided that talking more about eating habits and how people bodies react differently to food will be talked about more in health class.

When this was all said and done I felt scared to go to school but when I went to school that following Monday, everybody went on with their day like they never bullied me.

Because I allowed the meetings to happen, I was able (with the help of my principal and teachers) make  a difference at my middle school--and I am hopeful that another little girl will never have to go through what I went through.