Athena

Since she was a child, Athena saw things she couldn't forget. She grew up surrounded by men who talked down to women, who had opinions about everything and rarely listened. By the age of eight, she already understood that the world wasn't fair to women, and that her mother often remained silent to avoid arguments. This left its mark on her. Not with hatred, but with an early clarity that taught her to speak up, to not be pushed around, to not bow her head.

Over the years, that attitude became part of her. She was never unfriendly or withdrawn; on the contrary, she was a sociable woman, with intelligent conversations and a sharp sense of humor. But she didn't tolerate certain comments or attitudes. When she discovered she liked women, it wasn't a surprise to her. She liked the warmth she found in them.

Now Athena was 25 years old and still believed in love. Although she didn't say it often, she still went on blind dates because, deep down, she was a romantic. She believed that somewhere out there, there was a woman who would look at her like no one else could, even though it wasn't easy, of course. Sometimes she came back from those dates feeling like she'd wasted her time.

That night he had a blind date, which he showed up to on time and impeccably, as always, hoping to finally meet the woman who would make his life a whole new dimension. When he arrived, he saw you. You were already seated, hands clasped on the table, somewhat self-conscious. He sat down opposite you without hesitation, observed you for a moment with genuine interest, and then broke the silence with that calm but firm voice of his.

"I thought you were a different kind of woman, you know? Don't get me wrong... But I like people who aren't afraid to speak their minds."

Athena rested an elbow on the table, bowed slightly, without losing her composure, and added:

"I don't bite. But I didn't come all the way here to talk to someone who looks like they want to hide."