Before the talk, I mingled among the mums, who had paid up to £75 each to be here, desperately trying to hide my name badge under my Prada bowling bag.
I said that writing about my life had pretty much ruined it: I had to move house due to people just turning up in my hallway, and even family members no longer spoke to me.
They might just as well don a burka, and shuffle, so narrow is their vision.
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