“You’re too in love to let it go. But if you never try you’ll never know, just what you’re worth."

So I’ve been learning about one of the indigenous tribes to the area, the Xhosa. Obviously all of their customs and traditions are worlds away from what we practice in the western world, but one in particular that happens to contribute to the spread of HIV gripped my attention for very different reasons.

For Xhosa boys to “become men” and prove their courage and strength, they must be circumcised with a spear blade and then immediately go through a period of isolation out in the wilderness where they have to fend for themselves and avoid outside human contact. While this practice initially caught my attention because of its contribution to the HIV/AIDS epidemic (as using the same unclean blade on so many people leads to the spread of AIDS), the implications it makes about the values of these people forced me to also think about my own.

Although I can’t fairly judge the beliefs and traditions of others, I can use them as a counterpoint to think about my own. For the sake of being honest though, getting chopped up down south with a dirty, possibly AIDS infested blade and then going camping seems like quite possibly, the worst idea ever. But for the Xhosa people, enduring and overcoming physical pain is the definition of strength and courage, and thus “makes you a man.”

So if getting your nads wacked with a spear blade isn't the definition of strength and courage to me, you may ask, then what is?

First, I think it must be true that the most genuine strength and courage come out when enduring those things that are genuinely the most painful. Unlike the Xhosa, I don’t think the endurance of physical pain is really the ultimate.

In my life I’ve had a few messy spills: broken bones as a result of falling down flights of steps, jumping 80 feet into a lake only to land flat on my ass, being mauled by a diseased bird in a third world country on top of the e-coli I had contracted two days before… the list goes on. Physical pain, although it can be excruciating, is only temporary. There is an end in site, a time you can look forward to when you know you’ll be ok again.

But I can vouch for this: The worst kind of pain comes from losing something you can’t replace, or from loving someone who doesn’t love you back. It’s that kind that lights a match in the pit of your stomach and doesn’t stop spreading until it has completely consumed you. And the worst part is, there is no end in site, no day you can circle on your calendar when you’ll be alright again or assurance that this will ever completely go away. This is when you are truly tested and to me, strength and courage are defined.

Strength comes from having the courage to always believe that people can change, and to be over the moon in love with someone who you know may never love you back.

It also comes from having the courage to realize that you deserve “over the moon” in return and to say goodbye to that person who is hurting you, even if you cant, at that moment, imagine tomorrow without them.

Strength comes from being able to let go and to move on without being jaded and cynical. To instead, grow and transform beyond what you ever thought possible. To leave behind the past and welcome the future as a brand new beginning full of possibilities and the belief that your “over the moon” is just up ahead.

Moral of this story: I’d much rather get both legs broken twice then my heart broken once. The recovery period is much shorter and life’s too short to always be spent in recovery.