unveiling

There is this woman I know from college, who I only see in large social settings once every few years. Every time I see her, I'm amazed by how pretty she looks. The picture of the lanky girl in the oversized t-shirt, part of the permanent collection in my memory bank, is probably responsible for my surprise. The actual transformation has been gradual, as with a flower in bloom. When I expressed my amazement last night, someone responded, "love does wonderful things."

The beginning of the observable transformation coincided with her falling in love with the man who will soon be her husband. She has always been beautiful; she's always had it in her. But something in her relationship with her fella helped her to really believe that, to live and carry herself as someone who is beautiful.

I suspect that a great amount of money is spent to instill and live out the belief that beauty leads to love: if I make myself attractive, then someone will love me. But maybe love comes first. Maybe the truth is that beauty is already there, and love merely does the unveiling.