Happy people, I know a lot of them. Or at least my perception of them is one of which I think that they are happy. They go about life with a smile on their face and a tune with their walk. I'm a happy person (most of the time- I learnt that I can't be happy ALL of the time. That's not healthy.)! A few months ago I met a happy person, a woman who seemed to have it all- a great job, a big family and impeccable fashion sense. It was a delight when I would run into her because her cheer was so contagious that I couldn't help but double over in laughter right a long with her.
We saw each other a few days ago and chatted lively about the warm weather and sandals. The topic of the weekend came up and with out skipping a beat she told me her husband was moving out because he just would not stop having office affairs. I stopped mid step and looked at her. I didn't know how to read her... I didn't know how to react. He face had relaxed from it's usual open smile and for the first time I saw who she really was. Behind it all was a woman who was hurting. A woman who didn't want the world to see her as defeated (Which in my honest opinion she isn't. He's moving out, she's making a new life for her self and THAT in my world does not translate to defeat.).
I saw her again this morning, her ex-partner had moved out and she finds an eerie calm in the quiet house. I'm impressed with her ability to move through life un-distracted by the turmoils at home, I doubt that if confronted with the same situation I would be able to display the same self control. This alone confirms for me that sometimes the happiest people have the biggest secrets.