Johanne slowly walked toward me, each step filled with a quiet yet unmistakable resolve, and without a word, she wrapped her arms around me in a warm, enveloping hug.
"I thank you," she whispered, her voice soft but firm.
"For what?" I asked, blinking in confusion.
"For making me realize that I am a woman," she said, her voice trembling just slightly—like she was holding back something deeper.
I didn't really think I had done anything that deserved her gratitude.
Not enough, at least.
She was the one who made the choice.
She walked her own path, found her own truth.
I hadn't done anything that could warrant her thanks. I hadn't guided her—I'd merely been there.
"If not for you," she continued, her tone growing emotional, "then I wouldn't be standing here in a dress like this. I wouldn't have found the courage to be seen as a woman in anyone's eyes… I wouldn't have been able to face my father. If not for you, then…"
