"You're too fat to eat." I explicitly remember the day I walked into my 8th grade classroom to find my lunch splattered on the floor. The words “you’re too fat to eat” were engraved on the surface of my wooden desk. Hot, salty tears began to whelm in the depths of my dark, chocolate-brown eyes. My vision blurred, making it almost impossible for me to see past the pain. How could someone be so cruel? How could someone strip me, or in fact anyone of their basic rights? My knees began to wobble as my legs de-solidified into jelly. The pain of hunger was instantly accompanied with emptiness. A waft of humiliation and embarrassment blanketed my soul. Was I really fat? Did I actually deserve to starve and to not eat? Shaking away the stupid thoughts, I knelt to the floor to clean up the mess that had been made. I hurried to the coordinator’s office to let her know that I had accidentally "dropped" my lunch, and therefore would have to eat at the cafeteria. After being granted permission, I walked into the lunch hall as if nothing had happened. I blinked away the tears, tilted up my chin, held my head high, pasted a smile across my face, and walked. I walked with confidence and with poise and with grace and dignity. I thought that pretending that the incident never occurred would help ease the pain. But, I was wrong. Little did I know that as soon as I would walk into the cafeteria, the group of boys who had been guilty for shaming my body would begin chanting “You’re too fat to eat, you’re too fat to eat.”

Receiving body-shaming notes became a norm for me. However, being the optimistic and vivacious person I am, I kept giving those boys, and every other person who had bullied me, the benefit of the doubt. In my heart, I believed that bullies aren’t bad people. In fact, I still do. I told myself, that they hurt me because of their own insecurities. So, I tried to bring them up. I was nice to them. I complimented them and showered them with nothing but kindness. Regardless of how disrespectful they were towards me, I kept forgiving them. I believed that one day they would realize their mistakes. I believed that one day they would become better individuals because they had the potential to be. Do I regret the way I reacted to the situation? No, I don't. But, do I regret the way I perceived it? Yes, I do. The thing is, they might have had their own insecurities. But NOTHING, and I repeat, NOTHING justifies the way they treated me. NOTHING justifies the fact that they had the audacity to go through my personal belongings. NOTHING justifies the fact that they had the heart to destroy my lunch -- the lunch that my mom invested so much time and love into making. NOTHING justifies the fact that they labeled me with names not only including fat, but also slut, and whore. And for what? All because they weren't confident in their own skin? Well, let me get one thing straight. Absolutely NOTHING in this world can justify their actions.

While they would wake up the next day with a hazy memory of what they had done the day before, I spent days and nights crying. I would wake up to the sense of touch as tears trickled down my cheeks. Lullabies were replaced with the sounds of me sniffling before I rocked myself to sleep. And now that I look at this incident, five years later, I think, God forbid what could have happened to me if I didn't have the love and support from my family, and if I didn't have the strength to rise above the hate.

So, here I am. Five years later -- emotionally bigger, and stronger. Today, I am happy. In fact, I am probably the most content person I know. But, what about those individuals who don't have the same support as I did? What about those people who are yet to see the light at the end of the dark tunnel? Regardless of whether it may be in the same scenario or not, bullying is NOT okay. And together, we can rise above the hate. So, if you know someone who is going through a tough time, let them know that THEY ARE NOT ALONE. Give them a hug. Compliment them. Make them smile. Do SOMETHING to make a change. Do ANYTHING in your control to mend a broken heart, or rather, to prevent one. We are human. Our race, our religion, our social class, our physical appearance -- NONE of that matters in the face of humanity. In the end, we are all one. We are all equal. So why can't we just learn to love each other? Why can't we STOP the hate?

For those of you reading this who think you're alone; YOU ARE NOT. You WILL see the light at the end of the tunnel. So hold on and stay strong. Because guess what? You are beautiful inside and out, and all you need to do in order to be happy, is to believe in yourself. So, do it. Be yourself. Love yourself. And RISE ABOVE THE HATE. From one victim of a broken heart, to another -- let's make change together. Let's accept one another and let's love one another. And better yet, let's #RiseAboveTheHate.