MEMO TO MEN: The beauty of pain

MEMORANDUM
TO: Men all over the planet
FROM: Melissa
RE: Take off your beauty mask
DATE: March 5, 2012
"Behind every beautiful thing, there's been some kind of pain."

That's a quote from a Bob Dylan song, boys. Now, don't get me started on how much I can't stand that harmonica-swinging, folksy singer, but that quote? Well, I love it. It's pretty perfect, in fact. And it's something that's been on my mind lately. We can so easily become consumed with just looking at that person that we stop taking the time to look -- really look -- at what's inside of the person standing right in front of us. Not literally inside, of course -- more like taking a closer look beyond the surface. Because I can guarantee you one thing, boys: This is where the story is. The real story, anyway, and when you think about it, the only story that really matters.

We're so quick to quiver at the mere mention of the word pain, as if its simple utterance alone has the power to hurt us. We run from it. We hide from it. We do everything in our power to escape from its mighty clutches. But we can't ever escape it -- at least not fully, anyway. And the more we rail against it and the more we shun the pain of others, the uglier we let it become. Take it from me, boys, we earn pain by living. No one who has ever lived has ever been able to go through life unscathed. It's just impossible.
It's sort of like baring our soul to another person, I suppose, this whole pain thing. We're scared, sure, but we trust that the other person isn't as scared as we are. We hope that the other person will want to get to know the pain behind our beauty. Because, really, just like all those wonderful experiences we've had, the not-so-wonderful experiences have their place in our heart too. We'd never want to relive them, of course, but they're a part of us. They've shaped us into the person we've become. Denying that -- or worse, not even acknowledging it -- is the same as not accepting the other person for who they are.

All too often, we let ourselves get scared by the littlest imperfections. At the end of the night, when the other person's beauty mask comes off, aren't we just the slightest bit curious to see what lies underneath? I've always thought it was our bruises, not our beauty marks, that made us beautiful. Something tells me I'll always see love that way. Life isn't perfect. But it can be beautiful. Are you in, boys? xoxo

[Photos via We Heart It]