Once upon a time there was a beautiful woman who thought she was funny looking. I could see how she might have thought this because her features were not ordinary. She had the freckles of a tomboy and a nose, which although not large, was certainly proud. But she also had the cheekbones of a Cherokee, the dark eyes of a Pacific Islander, and the long, loose limbs of a dancer. She moved in a way that kept rhythm with the flowing curves of her body, yet she never relinquished a subtle, regal grace.

This beautiful woman had traveled the world and learned its languages. She had served others in roles both humble and grand. Most importantly, wherever she visited, this beautiful woman smiled her beautiful smile and easily found her many beautiful friends.

Every once in a while this beautiful woman met a beautiful man. Naturally, he would tell her beautiful things. After a time she would begin to feel loved. After a time, she would even begin to feel beautiful. During these relationships life tasted sweeter. Our heroine learned more easily and smiled more frequently. Each day became an adventure and each night flowed like a gentle stream.

What this woman did not know was how deeply these men truly loved her; for them, being in her presence was a healing balm. Eventually the relationships would become difficult for her when she could see that her beautiful men could not or would not meet her every need. At these times she raged like a terrible storm, but even so it was the love and peace beneath that fury which her beautiful men mostly felt and saw.

The more foolish of the beautiful men would try to help her when she raged, but it was like throwing a pebble at an ocean wave and expecting it to calm. The braver ones would go so far as to throw themselves into the fray, but inevitably these poor souls found themselves churned to bits in the foam of her emotion or broken by the logic of her rocky shore. The wiser ones simply allowed her to rage, refusing to acknowledge anything other than her extraordinary love.

Unfortunately, none of these beautiful men were ever enough. The foolish bored her. The brave exhausted her. The wise confused her. Therefore, as one might expect, for all three types of beautiful men she found reasons to move on. She'd have a good cry and choose a new place to begin. New sights and sounds, new tastes and touches, these things helped her catch her breath until she might begin again. Many years and many countries later the pattern continued. However, as each beautiful man passed through her life our beautiful woman became a little heavier with sorrow. She thought she had cried all her tears along the way, but now she realized that it wasn't so. For every friendship that was not her true soul-sought friendship she had stored a bit of sadness in a secret place about which even she had not known.

So deep was this sadness, that our heroine finally convinced herself that she was meant to wander the world alone, giving light and beauty as best as she was able, but never truly having it for her own. With the power of this sad thought, she touched something in her core and what was inside her secret sad place finally poured forth. She cried for the life she had lived and for the life her mind told her she was destined to live. She cried for every man that she had ever met and pulled her hair for each time she had come up empty.

It took some time, but, eventually, a last tear dried on her cheek. This was when a miracle occurred. The beautiful woman decided to fully accept responsibility for her own life and for the possibility of a life alone. Interestingly, for the first time, she was not sad about this but joyous; she finally realized that her true soul-sought friendship was her own Self and that it had been with her all along. In this moment her secret sad place filled with healing light and was no more. The beautiful woman now gazed in a mirror and realized that her eyes were sparkling in a way that they hadn't since she was a child.

With light in her heart, she found simple work which she genuinely enjoyed. With light in her heart, she found a simple dwelling where she made a genuine home. With light in her heart, she allowed herself, her friends, and her family to simply be.

Of course, now that she no longer sought her perfect beautiful man, several perfectly beautiful men appeared. She met one at a class. She met another through work. She met another through her church. She took her time and enjoyed their friendship, but now that she had found Miss Right within herself, all sense of urgency had fallen away.

Eventually, she picked her favorite one. He was her favorite, because, when she told him the story of a beautiful woman who thought she was funny looking, he looked right at her and smiled. He immediately knew the story was about her and together they laughed.