Who am I really?

She is a pillar, my friend,
carved with intricate designs.
Strong in her beliefs, but
the strong stand alone.

I’m the cool breeze around
Her; strong enough to carry on,
But never enough to stir the
leaves.

He is a nightlight, guiding me
through my darkness. But his light
flickers and dims when
The darkness is too great.

I’m a pencil to him; efficient
And inspiring, full of tall tales,
But needing a sharpening every
now and then.

Really I’m a façade; changing
To their view of me, suffocating
certain things to certain people. But
Who am I really?