Many, many years have passed, and unfortunately she has been gone for many years, but I remember my neighbour, Silvia, as if it were yesterday. We had known each other all our lives, we lived next door to each other. Room one was her parents’ room, room two mine. She was about 5 years older than me. It doesn’t sound like much, but when I was about 12 and she was about 17, she was my heroine. Brunette, big, expressive eyes, and above all, an overwhelming smile and joy. I was fascinated by how easy she was to pick up, and with gorgeous guys too. Her boyfriend was the most charming and attractive guy in the world. I remember sitting on her bed, watching her while she was getting ready and telling me about her adventures. She wasn’t particularly pretty. In fact there were girls in the neighbourhood who were considered much prettier, but she had something special. That something was her inner light, her authenticity, her confidence, her sympathy, her rebellious side, her living life the way she wanted, coherent with herself. Silvia thought she was beautiful, she looked beautiful and felt beautiful. And that made her shine. The other day I received a video in which the brilliant Susi Caramelo says that she is the first person self-diagnosed with pibonexia. I’m sorry to tell you, dear Susi, that no, you are not the first, my friend Silvia already enjoyed this «excess of impressive self-esteem». If only it were contagious, or is it? 😉