At an unforgettable and hilarious Neapolitan dinner table, I found myself TRYING to COMMUNICATE two sentences: my mother gave me away to a total stranger (though really wrapped me up in sex scandal) and my father was then diagnosed with dementia that he didn’t tell anyone about. My family’s theatricality turned my story into sport, performance, and interrogation. I couldn’t get angry, not even when they laughed, minimized, or simply didn’t understand. This wasn’t just dinner. This was a war of language, memory, and emotion—and I was outmatched until I wasn’t.