I am the size 20 model who was fat-shamed after appearing in a lingerie segment on “Cityline.” Despite the vicious comments and thinly disguised concern over imagined health issues, which my critics insist I must surely be experiencing, I remain unscathed.

Recently, I modelled for a Fashion Friday segment done by “Cityline.” The producers of the show are aware that women come in a multitude of sizes and reflect that in the fashions they showcase and models they choose. That is why I love and continue to love working with this show, and with Tracy Peart, who continually champions diversity in the work she does with the show.

Two weeks after the segment aired, I became aware of the onslaught of vicious comments “Cityline” received in response to the fact a girl of my size had the chutzpah to be in that state of undress on television. I would love to tell you this came as a surprise, but it unfortunately did not.

For context, I was 7 when a drunk man at a mall handed my brother a folded up note, got into his car, and tried to run over me. The note subsequently revealed his message full of hate for the fat kid whose death, he felt, would make the world a better place.

In 8th grade, the shame I felt towards my body meant I would quickly head for one of the two changing stalls after gym. My classmates soon caught on to my strategy and devised one of their own: one of the girls locked the stall doors and climbed underneath, something I myself was too big to do. They jeered and laughed while I sat on the bench waiting for them to leave so I would be able to change.

When I was 21, I gathered up my courage to confront a man who had assaulted me. When presented with what he had done, he mockingly dismissed the charge, asking me why he would do that to a fat girl.

The reality is this is something I have dealt with my whole life. It’s not fair, nor is it easy, but through this experience I’ve not only grown a nearly impenetrable skin, but in turn learned to respect the body that I’ve so long been tormented for.

I spent the first Saturday of my reading week poring over the comments. So many comments, in fact, “Cityline” did a followup segment on body-shaming, and I applaud them for their stance.

Some commentators said they were embarrassed for me. They wondered how I could have been allowed on TV like that. Others voiced their concern about the health of the poor fat girl. The blitz of commentary triggered memories of the days where my mom and I exhausted every option we could think of to lessen the vicious bullying to which I was subjected. (I dropped out of high school, ultimately finishing it online but graduating two years after my class.)

During those years, the only time attention was paid to my plight was when I wrote a scathing blog post, holding accountable the people who had sucked the joy from my formative years. If the pen is mightier than the sword, then I sincerely hope that my words today will again make an impact.

I’m bewildered as to why, from the time I was a child, the world collectively decided it was open season on my body. The sanctimonious “concerns” for my health are unfounded, and quite honestly I wish to challenge those who expressed these poorly camouflaged worries.

Are you really concerned for my health or is this simply a sanitized way of expressing your disgust? And to those who express their outright revulsion, it is certainly not appreciated but at the very least you could be said to be honest.

I’m a hard worker, a good friend, a loving daughter, a model, and an actress. My body should be of little consequence in the grand scheme of things. Far more important is a world view broad enough to embrace the multitude of differences in my fellow humans and the ability to make them all feel valued and accepted.

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