Mom always tries so hard,” Lisa chimed in with her signature laugh—a sound that mimicked sympathy but dripped with condescension. “It’s sweet, really. Very… traditional.”

Traditional. That was her word for me. My cooking, my decorating, my opinions—all dismissed with that single, damning adjective. In Lisa’s world, “traditional” was a synonym for irrelevant.

Katie giggled at something on her phone. Lisa leaned over, and they both erupted into a private, shared moment of mirth. Frank joined in, his booming laugh echoing theirs, though he had no idea what the joke was. He was just happy to be included in a circle that, by its very nature, excluded me.

That’s when I made my mistake. I tried to bridge the gap.

“What’s so funny?” I asked, a genuine, hopeful curiosity in my voice.