For the rest of the party, I tried to make the best of things. But there was a disturbing undercurrent that ran through the crowd, as if people were anxious, nervous even. A few people tried to engage with me. But most of them stood off, staring at me or ignoring me altogether. I was a big girl. I could tell they didn’t want me here. The feeling was mutual. Office gatherings like this, the need to be “on,” can be so exhausting. Smiling and pretending to enjoy the stilted conversations and awaiting the threat that someone might tell a wildly inappropriate joke with everyone looking at me for
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