The road to hurt in order to be beautiful.

I have this memory of when I was about 8 or 9.  I was laying down on our old white and blue striped couch, my head was on my grandmothers lap.  She was giving me a make-over- something I agreed readily to.  How could I not want to get my eyebrows plucked and my fingernails done after my Grandma had just spent an hour critisizing my looks.  "Your nails are so dirty Crissy! If you didn't have long hair, I'd say you were a boy!" ect.  After the dreadful ordeal that was my first eyebrow plucking, I sat up and let her begin to do my nails.  One by one plucking up another different shiny instrument by her plump, made up fingers.  I was in awe of her finesse with the tools.  She was like a doctor, here to help me be a girl and no longer the tom boy everyone in my third grade class accused me of being!!  She then pulled out her tweezers and proceeded to  one by one, rip out my cuticles!!  The pain was severe, causing me to cry out and rip my hand out of her grasp. I looked down at my little shaking hands and saw the droplets of crimson slowly starting to erupt.  That was when I first heard the words that I would remember and live by for the rest of my life.  Grandma viciously grabbed my arm and started to pull out the rest of my cuticles while I cried in protest. "You want to be pretty don't you Crissy?  Well it hurts to be beautiful." she snarled.  I finally gave into her long enough for her to finish my nails.  "Hurts to be beautiful?"  I thought confused.. "But mommy always tells me I am pretty regardless of my hair, outfit, or nails."  But I soon saw my error of thinking that way when I saw my Grandma's finished product.  My nails were beautiful!! They had never been so dirt free, polished a shiny purple, and free of any imperfections.  After my entire makeover I twirled in my dress happily in my full length mirror.  My golden blonde hair was curled and cascaded down my back.  I had a hint of mascara on my eyelashes, resulting in my eyes looking so huge and blue!  From head to toe I looked pretty, like a little girl!  If someone had first laid eyes on me right then and there they would never even be able to imagine that I was really a little tomboy who liked to rough it with the boys at school.  That I prefered basketball and dirt to barbies any day.  Although my nail beds still throbbed I noticed that the pros much outweighed the cons of the pain.  It really did hurt to be beautiful.  The compliments I got from my mommy, daddy, and grandma the rest of the day confirmed these thoughts.  Ever since then I have known that it does take pain to reach a goal.  Us mere mortals must hurt to be beautiful.