Someone taps me on the shoulder.

A girl speaking a language

I’ve never heard points

to her camera and me.

I nod and reach for the camera

to take a picture of

her with her friends.

But faster than the flowing water,

the giggling group surrounds me

as the girl

takes our picture.

And I’m in the center of it.

I imagine the social media post:

“Girls Encounter Fatzilla in America.”

It goes viral.

I’m a global joke.

What do I do?

I think about what Doc said.

I have the right

to stand up for myself,

to defend myself.

I force myself to

walk over to them and

use my hands to say

I’m willing to take their picture.

I snap a group photo and

then one of the falls before

turning my back on them for

just a second,

just long enough.

Then I give back the camera.

When the girls walk away,

I toss the camera’s memory card

over the falls.

HARD TO TALK ABOUT

For the first time,

I’m really glad I have

an appointment with Doc.

As soon as I sit down,

I show her

the latest ugly word I wrote

on the ever-growing list of

hurtful things people say to me.

mon ∙ ster (noun) \´män(t)-st´r\

1 : a human grotesquely deviating

from the normal shape.

2 : one who inspires horror or disgust.

3 : me.

I create Niagara Falls in Texas when

Doc asks me to tell her what happened and,

before I can get one word out,

the tears flow.

I cry so hard,

so long,

Dad hears me.

Then I hear Dad

pacing in the waiting room.

A few times his cowboy boots stop

right at the door and

the handle starts to turn and

stops and

turns again, until finally

I open the door and

let him in, and

he sits and holds me

like I’m a little girl and

rocks me until

I’m all cried out.

MORE TIME

Sometimes

you just need

more time.

Our session is over,

but Doc says we need to talk.

So Dad goes back to the waiting room,

never knowing what made me so upset.

I don’t know if

I’ll ever tell him.

I don’t want to ruin

his good memories of Niagara Falls.

“I feel so stupid,

not figuring out what they were up to.

And I feel so guilty for what I did.

I stole something.

I’ve never done that before.

I destroyed their vacation photos.”

“You feel guilty because

you’re a good person who

made a bad decision to

snatch the card rather than

defend yourself.”

Doc hands me

a piece of stationery and a pen.

“Write that girl a letter

and confront her.”

DEAR STRANGER

Dear girl who tapped me on the shoulder:

What made you think

it was okay

to take a photo of me

without my permission

just because I don’t look like you?