She walked calmly into the ring with purposeful steps. And although there was usually a smile on her face in those minutes leading up to the opening bell, there was a fire in her eyes and an unmistakable intensity about her. Those surrounding her knew, her friendly mannerisms and gentle demeanour would soon be tucked away and quickly forgotten. As she stood there, directly diagonal to the opponent, her shoulders and body appeared relaxed but her gazed was filled with intention. She peered downward, three feet ahead of her onto what was often a blood stained canvas, intentionally disconnec ted fr om t he competition. She knew to never become phased by her competitors appearance as she had learned many moons ago that in a boxing ring it was never wise to judge a book by it's cover. She wasn't from a broken home and there was no apparent enduring struggle that she battled, but even if it appeared from the outside there was nothing she needed to fight for, she was, unmistakabl...