Every morning over coffee, I would write in my journal: “Today is the day!” But I kept putting it off, uncertain about how Ana would react; wondering if I could ever just be Jenna, her friend, again. When I finally did tell her who I was and who my family was, her face lit up and she laughed. I had worried for no reason. She didn’t care at all. Because she already knew me, and she knew I cared about her. Our friendship was what defined us, not my name. She saw all of me, all of my sides, not just one.
