BEAUTY AND THE BEAST

Last week I was forced to participate in a tedious orientation for my summer internship program. I am a bit of a recluse—the thought of socializing in a large plastic group had me reaching for a bottle of Xanex. The first day of training was as expected—students anxiously fielding generic questions like, “what law school are you from?” --completely uninterested in the answer. I chose not to participate in the social banter. I’ve been labeled as reserved and aloof. I am what I am and I feel no obligation to prove otherwise. I sat there pretending to find interest in the disheveled papers in front of me.

Just before the first training began, a beautiful girl with a flawless complexion and sexy sway came to sit next to me. She turned to ask me a question, thus beginning our conversation. After only a few minutes, I came to learn that she was not as beautiful as she once appeared. I listened to her go on and on about her accomplishments, her possessions, and the people she knew—by the end of the conversation I was completely uninterested in her. The more she spoke, the uglier she became. How could a girl blessed with such physical beauty not seek to find the beauty or interest in others?

I am sure that this girl with a beautiful complexion and sexy sway had many admirers—many of which I noticed at orientation. And I imagine that she divulged all of this useless information to me in an attempt to make see how beautiful she was too.

To be completely honest with you, I’ve rarely considered physical appearance when choosing to love someone. I’ve been with all types of people—short and stout, tall and lanky, awkward and outdated. I have endured the questions from friends, the trite remarks of strangers, and the painful jokes from family members—all of which were of no consequence when I compared my dizzying happiness to the lives and relationships of others.

Physical appearance is ill-suited to capture the profundity of this thing we name beauty. I find beauty in the unconventional—the belly bulges, the scarred knees, the stubborn hairs, the bucked teeth and burned elbows. I find beauty in vulnerability. Prying open your hiding space to let someone in to see, touch, experience the fullness of you. There is beauty in purity. Loving for the sake of loving without asking for anything in return. I find beauty in revelation. Stepping into the light to allow someone to bear witness to your pain. I find beauty in insecurity—those things that we silently curse in the darkness—those things that produce sadness and anxiety. Insecurity makes way for humility.

The girl with the flawless complexion and sexy sway is an object. She will never know the splendor of a beauty that far surpasses the physical. This kind of beauty cannot be manipulated or manufactured. It compels truth. It compels surrender. When I love, it is my only hope that you will blind yourself to the physical to unearth it in me. And I will give thanks.