I remember when I was between the ages of 8-10 my parents went out for New Years Eve. They dropped us off at our Aunt's house where several other similarly aged cousins would be staying too.

There was about 8 of us being babysat by the younger sister and friend of our regular babysitter Peaches. Her name was Dawn. I don't remember the friends name.

I remember trying to comfort one of the younger cousins, and Dawn was not happy about it. She kept telling me I was making it worse, but I simply couldn't stand to see someone so miserable. (Later I read a babysitting d0's and don'ts, and I was doing everything right- IN YOUR FACE DAWN!)

So Dawn and I did not start off on the right foot.

A while into the night, I get called up into one of the bedrooms. Dawn points to an overturned cup of juice, and chides me for spilling it. I tell her that it is not my cup, and I did not spill it. Yes, we were all doing a conga line in the bedroom, but I did not spill the cup.

Dawn insists it was me, and demands that I clean up the mess. I refuse. Dawn and her friend again insist it was me because basically I was "the fat kid". Apparently in Dawn's world fat was synonymous with "bad, fault, and misbehave".

How did I know I didn't accidentally spill the drink?

See, when you're fat you incredibly sensitive about your body. You go to great strides NOT to be the clumsy oaf, the one invading peoples space, etc. You become sensitive to the tiniest details of your body. If I had hit that cup I would have known.

So I held my ground. Dawn and her friend then commence to yell at and ridicule me for being fat and clumsy in front of all my cousins and siblings. All of whom seemed to be as shocked as I was.

Yet, I still refused, while sobbing hysterically, to pick it up.

There tirade soon grew weary, and while I was briefly punished, I did not pick up that cup or clean the mess. At that point it was a battle of good vs. evil, and even at a young age I would be damned to let evil win.

Eventually our parents came to collect us, or maybe we stayed the night...

Some things fade to the background. Others haunt the recesses of your mind that you don't care to visit, but they always jump out of the closet eventually.

Being "the fat kid" was more uncomfortable than being the fat women could ever be thanks to people like her.

FTR, years and years later my little sister admitted that she had knocked over the cup, but that she was so afraid of what they would do to her, after they had reamed me, that she couldn't bring herself to admit it that night.