There’s beauty in the ugly truth

Wait? What? What do you mean, there’s beauty in the ugly truth?

Exactly what I said.

Photo by Jess Loiterton on

When we tell our truth, our soul heals. When the truth comes out, no matter how ugly it is, we heal.

In today’s synthetic world of overload information and quick to make snap judgements, we are drowning our brains with other people’s thoughts.

No wonder we are losing it while trying to be happy! We’re trying to surf ALL of the internet instead of a bit at a time. We are going too fast, and falling off our board ~ unbalanced.

Assumptions that people make about other people ~ name five. Just five. There are millions …

  1. physically ugly people are not as capable or able as pretty people
  2. heavier people are less intelligent or happier than thinner people
  3. wealthy people are more deserving of a happier life than financially challenged people
  4. female feminists actually care about other women
  5. the more educated a person is, the more civil and gracious they are

The truth is, none of the above are accurate.

I have stories ~ but then so do you.

The truth is, I’ve met the exact opposite of those stereotypes on multiple occasions. So have you. We may not be aware of it or notice it.

My career and training have been all about noticing people. Maybe that’s why going through horrible things was so hard. I noticed everything. Maybe that’s why I love being by myself. I notice everything. Maybe … that’s why some people were jerks to me. I noticed everything.

You can turn into a real sour patch kid when you notice everything. Like a bright light bulb in the room that never shuts off.

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We do that to ourselves with social media.

We are drunk on the trauma and drama. Addicted to the fear of all the awful, terrible things we see in the world.

We become obsessed with reading comments on any of it, usually getting pulled into someone saying something truly awful.

We get triggered, then we clap back, then they clap back.

It’s crazy. It’s insane. It’s 100% unnecessary. It’s unhealthy.

Healthy, happy people put up a limit or boundary.

We don’t avoid it altogether, but we don’t bath in it. We don’t drink it up like the cheap box wine that it is.

We stereotype each other as if that is the end-all of someone’s personality, end of story.

When the internet first came out the way it is, and we could reach out into the world to meet each other across the miles, I was so hopeful that we’d be able to actually learn about people that were unlike ourselves.

There is a lot of that.

We can and do use it for good.

There IS good news and there ARE good people.

But the everyday, ordinary people have gotten comfortable with cruelty. It’s like perpetual 6th grade mean girl awful, cruelty for sport.

We judge people based on how they look?

We condemn people based on just one comment or “like” on something someone else said?


We have the ability to create the greatest level of what humanity can look like, but we fall down the rabbit hole of watching nonsensical drivel for hours at a time.

They say, “You become what you consume” ~ in time, what we pay attention to, who we spend our time with, what we eat, and … well, it goes on to include all six senses.

I include the 6th sense because empaths and sensitive people do have a gift. I have been witness to it enough times to know. Those of us who build up our intuitive, micro ability to notice things have that gift. A little bit highly sensitive intuition mixed with highly trained ability to read people. Ask a good magician or con artist … they may be street trained but the grifters among us are masters at noticing things … maybe more so than the do-gooder psychologists who mean well. Sometimes, they are one in the same.

At the end of the day, people are just people.

I’m as deeply flawed as the next person ~ we all are. When I hear myself saying something that instantly doesn’t feel good, I go back and sit with it a while. Then, I figure out the source of where that verbal ugly came from.

Then? I change it and do better next time.

When people live through trauma, they are forever changed. Their balance looks differently than those who never experienced 1st hand trauma.

Photo by Tom Fisk on

For example ~ I dearly love to laugh, but realize that unless I make a conscious effort to seek laughter and lighter things to focus on, I simply don’t have it in me anymore.

The same can be said for the pillow/cloud walking happy people who only see sunshine and rainbows on a billowy cotton candy field of happiness flowers.

They don’t see the dark side of life. They talk about it. They study it. They may even write about it. But they don’t FEEL it.

Maybe that’s why they don’t know how to process those darker emotions or help others to just sit there feeling awful.

My job allows me to be a safe space for a crying, miserable, grouchy, bone crushingly sad person. Without feeling uncomfortable.

Do you know how important it is to be able to have someone else there for you while you go through grief and sorrow?

Do you know how important it is to have a safe space companion who will laugh out loud with you during your dumbest, snort out loud jokes and laughter fits. The sort that hurt your stomach from the effort.

These people are the real deal.

They come in all shapes and sizes.

If you don’t have anyone to laugh or cry hard with, then you must become your own best friend.

But if you do, then know that they are the most important person in your life.

Kids need their parents to be that person.

If you’re looking for love, that’s great. But if you really want a happy relationship full of love ~ find the person you can laugh ’till you snort or cry ’till you turn red.

Find the beauty in that ugly, and the world turns nicer. But for feck’s sake … work on the stereotyping … that’s just all ugly.

This human intolerance of other people is an addiction and a crisis. Don’t we have enough other stuff to worry about!


(c) @inkhoneypub @happinessnoir @K.ArenHenryMiller

Published by happinessnoir

Writer | Advocate | Free Range Female | Change Agent | Essayist

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