The Tale of a Sixth-Grade Nothing

When asked to actually talk about bullying, I get physically ill. It’s strange. I’m a fat chick that talks out about size acceptance all the time. I’ve worked with victims of domestic violence in the past and advocate whenever I can. But when it comes down to talking about childhood bullying my stomach cramps and I just want to curl up in a little ball. I’m forty years old, but it seems that certain childhood traumas never go away.