Right. The same's true of me. I was a different girl before I got my keyblade, and an even more different one before I got taken from my home the first time. But I'm still myself, I can still recognize who I am when I look in the mirror.

[Not to say she always likes herself, but she at least likes who she's trying to be. She's just really sick of falling short so often. Fortunately, that's not the point of this conversation.]

Granted, eighteen years is a lot longer than one or two, but sometimes, one year of experiences can matter more than a decade.