“Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.”
— Margery Williams, Velveteen Rabbit
We spend an absurd amount of our lives trying not to look shabby. We buy creams and clothes and expensive little jars that promise to make us appear as though nothing difficult has ever happened to us. We want to remain smooth, composed, and properly assembled, with all our original parts still pointing in the intended direction.
But that isn’t what being loved does to us.
Real love leaves evidence. It wears away the performance. Someone sees you exhausted, frightened, unreasonable, and wearing the same sweatpants for the third day. And they stay. You lose some vanity. Your defenses loosen. The carefully maintained version of yourself begins to fall apart, which is alarming until you realize that it was also keeping you from being completely known.
That is what the Skin Horse understands. Becoming Real is not about becoming more impressive. It is about becoming more honest. Your hair gets rubbed off because you have been held. Your joints become loose because you have been carried everywhere. You look worn because someone kept reaching for you.
To people who value only what is new, polished, and easy, this may look like deterioration. They see the scratches but not the years of affection that put them there. They see age but not endurance. They see imperfection but not the long, astonishing privilege of having mattered to someone.
Once you are Real, you are no longer beautiful because everyone approves of you. You are beautiful because you have loved and been loved long enough to stop needing everyone to understand.
Related Posts:
