For my birthday, a coworker gave me a gold necklace. I wore it proudly until I found an engraving: “Office Joke.” It was a prank; they thought I was “trying too hard.” Humiliated, I laughed it off but cried alone. I withdrew, avoiding team interactions, their mockery lingering like a virus. One day, when the office clown targeted another coworker, I snapped: “Is being the punchline your whole personality?” The silence shifted something. Weeks later,
the necklace reappeared, re-engraved: “Keep Shining.” Likely the intern’s apology, it became my symbol of resilience. I wore it again, reclaiming its meaning. Others began speaking up, and the office tone changed. My boss later asked me to mentor new staff, praising my strength. The ringleader eventually apologized. I didn’t need revenge—just acknowledgment. The necklace now reminds me: don’t shrink for others’ jokes. Like who you see in the mirror.
