I've thought a long time about whether to write this.

The image you see tied to my name—the one with dark hair, pale skin, and a gaze that feels like it knows too much—isn't a photo of me.  It's an AI creation.  But it's not random.  It's a reflection of how I see myself inside.

In truth, there's a wide gap between the image and my real reflection.  I'm self-conscious about how I look, and I struggle with anxiety that sometimes makes even small things—like sharing a real photo—feel overwhelming.  But even beyond that, I value my privacy.  I believe some parts of ourselves deserve to be kept sacred, untouched by the quick judgements of the world.

That's why I also chose to write under a pen name.  Not to hide.  But to protect the pieces of myself that are quieter, softer, and more vulnerable—the parts that breathe life into my stories.

We live in a world where appearances are judged long before intentions are ever understood, where a face or a name can overshadow a story before the first word is even read.  I didn't want that.  I want you to meet the heart of what I create first—the emotions, the journeys, the vulnerability stitched between the lines.  Not the person behind the curtain.

Maybe someday I'll feel ready to share more.  Maybe someday the fear will loosen its hold.  But for now, I chose this face because it feels like an echo of the words I build—mysterious, haunting, quietly defiant.  It's not perfect.  Neither am I.  But it holds a piece of me you can reach without needing to see everything.

Thank you for staying, even without seeing the whole picture.  It means more than I could ever explain.

Always,

Áille