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I was getting body shamed at dinner. My little brother ended it in one sentence.
My uncle’s been making comments about my body since I was 12.
Always loud enough for everyone to hear.
Always with that smug little smile.
This year at Thanksgiving, I reached for a second piece of bread and he goes,
“Better slow down. Boys don’t marry girls with thunder thighs.”
A few people laughed.
I froze.
My mom just looked down like she always does.
Then my little brother put down his fork and said,
“Uncle Rick, haven’t you been divorced three times? Maybe stop giving dating advice.”
The whole table went silent.
My uncle stood up and walked out without another word.
My brother just passed me the bread basket and said,
Eat. You’re perfect.
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