I clear my throat to make sure

Mom hears my final words.

“And I’m learning to love me.

The fat on my body

never felt as heavy as

your words on my heart.”

I walk over to her

and place in her hands

a notebook full

of all the ugly words

she’s ever said to me.

“It’s time for you

to carry the weight.”

She crumbles.

CATCHING A BREAK

Fun news.

Viv texts a photo of her with

sunshine-yellow hair striped with

orange rays.

Viv texts again.

Bad news.

Dad gets me for spring break.

And again.

Good news.

That means I get to visit you!

That’s not good news,

I text.

What?!

That’s the best news ever!

WHALING WALL

On the drive to pick up Viv

from her dad’s place,

I spot something and

make Anaïs circle back.

Sometimes when you see

something all the time,

you forget it’s there.

Like the Whaling Wall

in downtown Dallas,

an outdoor mural

featuring humpbacks.

I feel so small

looking up at them.

They swim.

They’re smart.

They have huge hearts.

And they have a voice.

I’ve always hated

being called a whale,

but it’s actually

a compliment.

They’re big.

They’re amazing creatures.

And they’re beautiful.

THREE TIMES THE FUN

What’s better than

a cannonball?

Three cannonballs.

Catalina gets an A

for originality.

She leaps into the air

and flaps her arms

like a newborn duckling,

its wings pretty much useless

for flight,

but at least it feels like

it’s doing something

to try to save itself

as it falls.

Viv starts out well,

but lets go of her legs too soon

and ends up doing a

cannonball–belly flop.

Not to brag,

but I nail it.

Perfect form.

Perfect splash.

ROOM FOR STARFISH

I swim so often,

my two besties,

Viv and Catalina,

tucker out before I do.

I drift over to them,

and we stare at the sky,

the ocean of the heavens.

I tell Viv and Catalina

about starfishing,

how I’m not going to

try to hide myself

or make myself small anymore.

How I’m proud to be me

and to claim my right

to take up space.

I deserve to be seen.

To be noticed.

To be heard.

To be treated like a human.

I starfish.

There’s plenty of room

for

each

and

every

one of us

in the world.

AUTHOR’S NOTE

Starfish is a work of fiction, and a lot of people will read this and think, “It’s definitely fiction because people would never say or do such cruel things.” But a variation of every single mean thing people said or did to Ellie happened to me when I was a child. Fat Girl Rules exist.

If you’re being bullied, I understand what you’re going through, and I care about you. You don’t deserve it. Ever. No matter what.