Hope is beautiful…

Heard today….”Tragedy makes you even more beautiful”…taken aback at first, I found myself speechless…yes me speechless…Beauty is definitely in the eyes of the beholder…”Beauty in things exists merely in the mind which contemplates them.”

I am an emotional mess these days.  I feel ugly – inside and outside.  It’s been a month since my accident and I am so tired of the pain I feel each second of every minute of every day.  I am tired of trying to learn how to do the simplest of things with my left hand.  I understand there are a few good people who are truly in my corner praying for me and hoping that the scars within me are not as visible on the outside nor on the inside.  I am afraid to see people because then they will see that I am barely clinging to life by a shredding thread….of hope.

So many people unfortunately see beauty as something to be measured and weighed.

I no longer see beauty that way. I see beauty as the grace point between what hurts and what heals, between the shadow of tragedy and the light of joy. I find beauty in my scars.

We all have scars, inside and out. We have freckles from sun exposure, emotional trigger points, broken bones, and broken hearts.  The invisible scars are the hardest to let go and deal with.

However our scars manifest, we need not feel ashamed but beautiful.

It is beautiful to have lived, really lived, and to have the marks to prove it. It’s not a competition—as in “My scar is better than your scar”—but it’s a testament of our inner strength.  I am strong.  I know this…I just have to keep reminding myself.

“The tragedy in a man’s life is what dies inside of him while he lives.” – Thoreau.  I am tired of dying a little at a time.  I don’t want to hide, to run away, to stay away…I will always somehow manage to smile through my tears…it’s just that some days are truly harder than others.

The Dalai Lama, the Tibetan saying:  “Tragedy should be utilized as a source of strength.  No matter what sort of difficulties, how painful experience is, if we lose our hope, that’s our real disaster.”  I believe, I continue to hope…for better days.

…smiling through my tears…♥

About Teresita

I am a writer, a thinker, an introvert, work behind the scenes kind of person - I am of Puerto Rican blood, have an Italian soul, and a Berliner mind....just learning...♥ View all posts by Teresita

2 responses to “Hope is beautiful…

  • Rachel Gama

    You may look into your mirror and see flaws, but someone else looks at you, and only sees beauty….like me. TAM! ♥

  • J. L. W.

    Recovery from a series of [domestic violence, gone extreme after the maiming and strangulation event’s restraining order] traumas, alone, in foot and wrist casts with my long hair brutally shorn, I didn’t need a new obstacle to accomplishment of basic everyday chores. But here it was: every trip to the grocery store included (as did every other anything) a clattering spectable of things falling from grip to floor, and knee & spine injuries making for a slow struggle of a cleanup.
    And that was the easy in for this new category of would-be pickup artist:
    the 50-something casual-besuited damned-well-bettr-be-recently-dvorced or I’m telling silver fox. Dudes would approach my car to proposition me, after seeing my horror and anguish and silent steely reserve. I’m 42 now, 38 when it started, with a platinum pelt, piercings, vividly inked epidermis, a sleeper supercar stationwagon and a doctorate.
    And retirees working on their pipe-tobaccoo tooth stains checking me out in the dairy aisle. And the ladies’ shoes dept. Nice. Hope you’re all healed and hale, lady. Cheers.

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