I saw a young woman in the park today, sitting on a bench, her baby asleep in the stroller, and she just looked… isolated. Like, completely separate from the little groups of parents chatting, you know? And the thing is, her baby was sleeping, which you'd think would be a moment of peace, right? But the playground noise was relentless, and I just kept thinking about her, and this thought hit me out of nowhere – a thought I’ve carried for DECADES, really – about how much of life is like that. You’re there, you’re present, but you’re not *in* it. It took me right back to my early career, honestly. All those networking events, or even just the office lunchroom. Everyone else seemed to have their little cliques, their inside jokes, and I'd be standing there, like, holding my lukewarm coffee, pretending to be engrossed in a memo, just waiting for someone to loop me in. And if they didn't, I’d just… drift away. Not because I was shy, exactly, but because it felt like trying to interrupt a really tight, well-rehearsed presentation without an invitation. I always felt like I had to EARN my way into conversations, like it was some kind of performance review where I needed to demonstrate my value before I could even speak. And if I couldn’t find the perfect opening, the perfect witty comment, I just wouldn’t bother. Why risk the awkward silence, you know? And watching that young mother today, it was almost like she had that same unspoken requirement. Like, her baby was asleep, so she couldn't use the 'mom' card to get in, and maybe she just hadn't figured out the 'person' card yet, or maybe she felt like she wasn't allowed to play it. And I thought about all those years I spent at company functions, pretending to be deeply fascinated by the hors d'oeuvres rather than trying to join a circle of laughing colleagues. Just… watching. Always watching. And part of me, even now, when I'm supposed to be all wise and retired, still feels that pang. That feeling of being on the outside looking in, even when you're right there. It’s a strange thing to carry, that almost-resentment for not being included, but also that stubborn refusal to just… barge in. Yeah, I feel that. More than I ever let on.