This month, someone very close to me was featured in a nationwide magazine. It was about women whose appearance had changed dramatically in some way. I was touched as I read her story from her perspective. Although it was obvious to everyone, it was something we never really talked about. It must have been a very difficult transformation process - I am not sure I would handled it with the grace and strength that she did.
It may sound strange, but even as I witnessed this change, I didn't really see it. She was somewhat of an icon in my mind, someone I looked up to and idolized. I wanted to be like her in so many ways. She was and still is one of the most talented people I have known. And she has the most beautiful spirit - one of the sweetest people I know. I love her dearly. She was always so pretty to me even through her change in appearance.
The thing is, I don't know if I ever told her that. I look back and I can't remember if I did. I wonder if she thought I was insensitive, that I didn't care. That wasn't it at all. I think all I saw was her in total - not just the outer shell that strangers saw... I wish I could have understood, that I could have helped in some way. Could I really have been that dense? Perhaps my love for her blinded me to the obvious, so I couldn't understand why others didn't see the same person I saw.
Her story is so interesting, because her outward struggle with her identity mirrors so many people's inner struggle. As I read her story, although I couldn't identify with her exact situation, I could certainly relate to her thoughts.
In my eyes, she was always pretty - always like a shero to me. She was beautiful before, during and throughout her transformation. I think she is more beautiful now, because of her courage.
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