Dorothy had it wrong.

From "The Wonderful Wizard of Oz":

"Dorothy wanted to see more of the Princess, so she ran after her. But the china girl cried out, "Don't chase me! Don't chase me!" She had such a frightened little voice that Dorothy stopped and said, "Why not?"

"Because", answered the Princess, also stopping, a safe distance away, "if I run I may fall down and break myself."

"But could you not be mended?", asked the girl.

"Oh, yes; but one is never so pretty after being mended, you know", replied the Princess.

"I suppose not," said Dorothy.

It doesn't take a philosophy or Women's Studies major to see the broader meaning and implications about this...at least, I don't think so. Maybe it's just because of my psychology background, I don't know. In some way, aren't we all broken, or in the mending process? Maybe it's up to us to see the beauty in the cracks, to read the stories of the ridges and scars. Isn't it said that once a bone is broken, after it mends, it is stronger than before? Maybe our broken pieces give us strength. After all, if something sits on a shelf and is never enjoyed, that's not very exciting, is it? It's only by experiencing life that we become nicked here and there, maybe cracked open or even shattered. But eventually, we piece ourselves together with some help and love, and continue our journey.

There's such a collective emphasis in society of not showing weakness, not showing our broken or wounded parts. We like to show shiny, pretty surfaces and neat, tidy packages. But as someone recently pointed out to me, vulnerability often draws people closer; we often like them even more after we know that part of them, because we connect on that basic level. At our centers, we're all vulnerable.

Once something breaks us, even temporarily, we're never the same. Ever. We're different. Maybe we can become better, even. And I would venture to say that, no, we're never as pretty as we were prior to breaking. We're prettier.