“At my son’s wedding, you pointed at me in front o…

And me, I was sitting at table 36. Let me explain what table 36 means at a wedding like this. It’s the table near the exit door.

The table where they put people they don’t really want but feel obligated to invite. The table so far from the family section that you might as well be in a different building. While the bride’s family sat front and center, bathed in camera flashes and champagne toasts, I sat in the back corner, practically hidden behind a decorative column.

I wore a simple dress, nothing fancy. I bought it at a department store two years ago, and I’d worn it to three other events since then. My shoes were old flats that I’d repaired twice because the soles kept coming loose.

My purse had a frayed strap that I’d sewn back together with thread that didn’t quite match. I didn’t look like I belonged there, and people noticed. The moment I walked in, I felt the stares.