10 · PEOPLE — Transformation

My life is made of people who do not realize they are still living in it. Some stayed. Many disappeared. All left something behind. A sentence. A glance. A wound. A cure. Some encounters last decades and change nothing. Others last minutes and alter the axis of an entire life.

That is why I never underestimate anyone. Not the stranger sitting beside me. Not the colleague. Not the passerby. Not the old man met by chance.

Every person carries a truth. Sometimes they arrive to teach us something. Sometimes they arrive to teach us who we are. And almost always we understand it long after they are gone.

Looking back, I realize I did not build myself alone. Nobody does. There is always an invisible hand inside what we become. A piece of advice. A rejection. A betrayal. An encouragement.

We are what we are because of everyone we meet. Even those we have forgotten. Even those we wish we had never met.

We are. And anyone who says otherwise, probably is not.