Angelina Jolie has lived her whole life in front of the spotlight. She was born to father, Jon Voight, and mother, Marcheline Bertrand in 1975. Now, on her 46th birthday, see her evolution through the years in the limelight.
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Jolie clings tight to father, Jon Voight, in 1980.
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Angelina Jolie, Jamie Haven and Jon Voight attend the Academy Awards in 1986.
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Angelina Jolie, Jon Voight, and Jamie Haven at the 60th Academy Awards.
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Jolie starts life in front of the camera while modeling a bikini in 1991.
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Jolie attends the premiere of “Wallace” in 1997.
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Jolie at the premiere of “Gia” in 1998.
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Jolie goes blonde for the SAG Awards in 1999.
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Angelina Jolie and Billy Bob Thornton get close at the “Gone in 60 Seconds” premiere. The two were married from 2000 to 2003.
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Jolie smolders in a beige dress at the “Taking Lives” premiere in 2004.
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Jolie out with baby Maddox in 2003.
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Jolie arrives to the Venice Film Festival in 2004.
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Jolie beams next to Brad Pitt at the premiere of “Mr. and Mrs. Smith” in 20o5. The two began their relationship while filming the movie while Pitt was still married to Jennifer Aniston.
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Jolie films “Life or Something Like It” with a platinum blond wig.
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Pitt and Jolie attend the premiere of “God Grew Tired Of Us” in 2007.
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Jolie steps out with Maddox and Shiloh in 2007.
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Angelina Jolie steps onto the red carpet while pregnant in 2008.
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Pitt and Jolie attend the SAG Awards in 2009.
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Jolie out with her children in 2011.
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Jolie showing off some leg at the Academy Awards in 2012.
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Pitt and Jolie attend the “Maleficent” premiere in 2014. The two filed for divorce in 2016.
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Pax Jolie-Pitt and Angelina Jolie attend the Netflix Golden Globes in 2018.
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Angelina Jolie attends the “Maleficent” premiere with her kids, Vivienne, Zahara, Shiloh and Knox in 2019.
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Jolie beams with her daughter, Vivenne, in 2020. While Jolie hasn’t acted in a movie since 2019’s Maleficent, she has stayed in the spotlight as her custody battle with ex, Brad Pitt, rages on.
I Allowed a Homeless Woman to Stay in My Garage—One Day I Walked in Unannounced and Was Shocked by What I Saw
I tapped the steering wheel, trying to shake the weight on my chest, when I spotted a disheveled woman digging through a trash can. I slowed down, drawn in by her grim determination.
She looked fragile yet fierce, fighting for survival. Without thinking, I pulled over, rolled down my window, and asked, “Do you need help?”
Her response was sharp but tired: “You offering?”
“I just saw you there,” I admitted, stepping out. “It didn’t seem right.”
“What’s not right is life,” she scoffed, crossing her arms. “You don’t strike me as someone who knows much about that.”
“Maybe not,” I replied, then asked if she had a place to stay.
“No,” she said, and I felt compelled to offer my garage as a temporary home. To my surprise, she accepted, albeit reluctantly.
Over the next few days, we shared meals and conversations. Lexi’s sharp wit broke through my loneliness, but I could sense her hidden pain.
One afternoon, I barged into the garage and froze. There, sprawled across the floor, were grotesque paintings of me—chains, blood, a casket. Nausea hit me.
That night, I confronted her. “What are those paintings?”
Her face went pale. “I didn’t mean for you to see them. I was just… angry.”
“So you painted me as a monster?” I demanded.
She nodded, shame in her eyes. “I’m sorry.”
I struggled to forgive her. “I think it’s time for you to go.”
The next morning, I helped her pack and drove her to a shelter, giving her some money. Weeks passed, and I felt the loss of our connection.
Then, a package arrived—another painting. This one was serene, capturing a peace I hadn’t known. Inside was a note with Lexi’s name and number.
My heart raced as I called her. “I got your painting… it’s beautiful.”
“Thank you. I didn’t know if you’d like it,” she replied.
“You didn’t owe me anything,” I said, reflecting on my own unfairness.
“I’m sorry for what I painted,” she admitted. “You were just… there.”
“I forgave you the moment I saw that painting. Maybe we could start over.”
“I’d like that,” she said, a smile evident in her voice.
We made plans to meet again, and I felt a flicker of hope for what could be.
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