My husband has always been embarrassed by me. If I’m honest, that’s been the through line of our marriage. I’m too much. Out of line. For years, I took this at face value—believing everyone else must see me that way too. Only later did I start asking: Did someone actually tell you I was a problem? Or is it just you who feels that way?

I’ll never forget a work trip I took as a twenty-something with my father to Las Vegas. By the last night, we were at some dinner, a private room of tables with executives in the travel industry. My table was dead. Lifeless.

Finally, someone brought up Airbnb. Even though I was naïve, I had thoughts, and I shared them. The table livened up. We were talking, debating. I felt excited, energized by the discussion and the sound of my own voice. Then my father leaned over and hissed in my ear:

Stop talking so much. Let someone else speak for a goddamn second.