About seven years ago, I was at a party where the hostess was telling what she thought was a funny story about me in front of many people. Her story was the day she witnessed me in my car, screaming and carrying on while stuck in a line of traffic. Time stood still for me as she repeated the story numerous times, giving more details each time as she laughed louder and louder. As I stood there, uncomfortable and embarrassed, many thoughts went through my head: should I defend myself and explain to her how difficult my life was? Should I tell her that I didn't want to be late for my client and be unprofessional because of my excellent work ethic? Should I just laugh along with her and take it in stride? Maybe, I should deny that it was even me! I did none of the above, but instead, I stood there feeling self-conscious and vulnerable. She did not know that I was a sleep-deprived and depressed single mother trying to make ends meat. Although I was divorced for a few years, my ex-hus