The Woman
by Juliana

I stared at the woman in fascination. Her loud, shrill voice had made my spine tingle for years. Her brash, forward, and sometimes confrontational personality also struck a nervous chord with me. I wondered to myself, “Why do I still like this woman?” Perhaps what I liked was the side of her that I saw when nobody else was around. Then the shocking loudness of her personality melted away, and I found her joyfully intelligent and wise.

Yes, there was much more to her than most people saw. To many people, a cold businesslike exterior was all they ever saw: a woman who set goals and then achieved them. She was a perfectionist in many ways, too, and didn’t like to see things done the wrong way. This was a trait that had won her more enemies than friends.

I looked at her again. “Enemies?” I wondered. “Does this woman actually have enemies?” I quickly answered myself, “No, not enemies. Perhaps not many friends either…” She was the kind of woman that many people felt uncomfortable getting close to. But those who did take the time found her much more kind-hearted than businesslike, and much more compassionate than demanding.

In my own experiences with her, I saw the confidence melt away in an instant of nervousness. Those little nervous moments came more often than she liked, too. When she was in the limelight, she was all confidence and laughing. But if you took the limelight away and watched her in the dimness of common living, she was perhaps more timid than most people. Nobody would guess it of her except those who knew her the most.

There were times when I was genuinely annoyed with her, though. There were times when her lack of self-confidence was utterly draining for me. I tried to tell her over and over that she was a wonderful, successful person, but nothing I said could make a difference to her. I wondered if right now would be one of those times. “It’s always worth a try,” I muttered to myself and then looked up at the mirror again.
“You are a child of God and a lovely person,” I said quietly to my reflection in the mirror.

I don’t think she heard.