I say, don’t get mad, get even. I was big and fat when I was a kid and I did get picked on - but eventually, I would catch someone who had done it alone and they would pay a “heavy” price. Back in that day, no one would go cry to Mommy about this sort of thing, bully or victim - it was like being in the Mafia or in prison.
I had a most enjoyable experience when I was in high school - I found out that a kid who picked on me when I was a kid and washed my face out with snow (more than once) had transferred to that school. I had since grown about 7 inches taller, lost some weight, and had turned at least some of the remaining fat into muscle - and he didn’t get much taller at all. I can still hear the satisfying sound of the metal locker door wrapping around his head as the rivets holding the hinges popped out...yes, he survived.
As someone in an nearly identical situation as a kid, I salute you.
I put up with the miserable little punk’s harassment for three years in middle school, but in my high school freshman year I’d had enough. I didn’t say a word to him when he started the crap up, but stuffed him in a locker with a quiet whisper.
Interestingly enough, the shop teacher saw it and sent us both to the principal. The little freak bawled his eyes out in front of her; I didn’t flinch.
I never had problems again. Amazing what a locker door will do, eh?
BTW, I am a girl. :)