Sweet human, I see you hiding behind your dimples and bright smile; your raspberry lips trembling and quivering ever so slightly.

I notice the way you swiftly and inconspicuously try to brush away your salt-water tears hoping that nobody can see. I can feel your tender heart swell and ache as it lies trapped within the confines of your ribcage; I hear your battle drums reverberate across the room.

Beautiful fighter, let go.

These hearts are not meant to be caged.

Release.

Stop fighting back your emotions, your feelings. You are most jaw-droppingly stunning when you let yourself feel.

Listen to these words and tattoo them on your heart:

You are beautiful. Sadness does not equal weakness. To feel is to be alive. You are entitled to feel however you feel. Your emotions do not define you—anyone who tells you otherwise is likely just afraid.

The very essence of beauty, lovely human, is the capability to feel completely and entirely. To not run from it or hide it or push it away or deny it.

To greet your pain, your sorrow, your anger, your whatever the f*ck it is you’re harboring; and to greet it at the door like an old friend, with arms wide open, with the same manners you would extend to a house guest.

There exists a conversation we must have with our emotions when they come knocking, and it is one that provides tremendous clarity and a smooth and mindful passage through rocky waters.

Hello, Sadness, yes, I recognize you. Please come in, won’t you?

We must make sure to call our emotions by name to help us to set expectations and correctly identify with whom we are speaking. Instead of fighting back or closing the door on and suppressing our feelings, we must learn to simply allow them in.

I’m sorry, I must make this clear to you now, you may only stay with me for awhile. This visit is not a permanent one. I have other things I must tend to so I cannot linger here with you, as much as I would like to sit and reminisce and play games with you and discuss old memories and get rained in here with you.

Time can easily get lost in emotions. It is so easy to get absorbed and caught up in reminiscing and reflecting, so we must set clear expectations from the start. The guest may be an uncomfortable one, but we can take solace in reminding ourselves that it is not a permanent one. We cannot and should not rush our emotions out the door, but make it known from the beginning that it will not last. Our minds, our bodies, are not sadness’ permanent home.

It’s good to see you, old friend, but why are you here?

When we learn to cognize our emotions, we open the door to better understanding of ourselves. When we reflect on the cause of our sadness, we come to realize that most sadness stems from love. It stems from having cared so passionately and mind-blowingly deeply about someone or something–whether it’s another human, our self-respect, or an idea. And that’s incredible.

And, when our visitor’s time is up,

Goodbye, thank you for coming to visit. I’m not sure when I will see you again, but when I do I will welcome you just the same.

To allow our sadness and our feelings in is a sign of bravery.

To send them on their way when their time is up is an indication of strength.

What makes you lovely is everything about you. Everything that you feel makes you completely and uniquely stunning. I know you lie awake at night sometimes and ask yourself why you feel the way you do, you ask yourself what is wrong with you when everyone else is so happy all the time?

But this is not life, my sweet souls. It is an illusion.

Life will never, ever, be all happy, all the time. For anyone. If there were no sadness, there would be no happiness.

Yes, I see you covering your face and biting your lip so hard that you bleed to hide your feelings.

But you don’t have to.

The best kinds of people are the ones who smile when it’s raining. The ones with a soft, peaceful smile on their lips as the storm rages around them. They’ve discovered the secret to the rain—it’s that they know it will stop.

Sometimes I wonder what it would be like if we lived in an alternate universe. An alternate universe where when someone cried, their face would glitter and shine and sparkle after for an entire day—an explosion of gorgeous burnt oranges and dreamy aquas and pinks slow-dancing across tanned, porcelain, chocolate, freckled skin.

Maybe then, crying would be seen as lovely. And we could always tell when someone was sad or needed uplifting or a lending hand. And we wouldn’t be scared to help them. And we wouldn’t view them as a burden.

Maybe then, no one would have to hide their pain or suffer alone.

Maybe then, people wouldn’t view tears as ugly or something to be afraid of.

And maybe then, just maybe, the world would be a happier place.

And we could gaze at people’s glowing, glittering, honest, naked, real, faces, and call them what they are: beautiful.

Author: Lea Pintozzi 

Image: NataliaDrepina/Deviantart 

Editor: Emily Bartran