Why You Need To Either Love My Flaws Or Let Me Go

I Am Flawed. Imperfect. Scarred.

I am who I am. I am perfectly comfortable and happy with who I am as a person. I may not have the perfect body shape, I don’t have perfect facial features, my hairstyle is a messy bun 90% of the time.  I have many flaws, but my flaws make me value my unique self.

My flaws are part of me. My flaws each have a story behind them.

The monstrous scar on my back is a reminder that I am a warrior and I am lucky to be alive. The lesions on my legs are reminders that I’ve been beaten and knocked down by the trials of life. The stretch marks on my belly are reminders that I have conceived life and a small person lived inside me. Life has scarred my body, but these scars are reminders of all the battles I have endured.

You have to love my flaws because they make me the woman that I am.

The truth is, I’m going to have more flaws as I get older. But, that’s just a part of life and I plan to live it to the fullest instead of worrying about my flaws. I’m happy with all my flaws because I’ve learned to own them. I’m happy with the woman I am, and I hope you can love that woman too.

You have to love my flaws even when I am not easy to be around.

I don’t want to hide my flaws from you—I hope you’ll be there. Even when I make mistakes, when I am a mess, when I’m cranky, or I pick a needless fight, I want to find comfort in your arms. I want to know that despite of it all, I am still beautiful in your eyes.

You have to love my flaws, or you have to let me go.

I cannot be with someone who can’t see the beauty behind them. I cannot be with someone who cannot take me as I am. I can’t be with someone who doesn’t love me despite my flaws. I cannot be with someone that doesn’t love the good and the bad. I cannot be with someone who can’t love all of me, flaws, mistakes and all. I am a whole human and my flaws are part of the package. If you cannot love my flaws, I ask you to let me go.

You have to love my flaws, not because you think I am perfect, not because you are infatuated, not because you’re blind and can’t see my flaws. But because you know them, because you have identified them and accept my flaws anyway.

I want you to love my flaws. I want you to see that even though I am flawed, I have so many wonderful things to offer. I want you to take a deeper look. I want you to see the shape of my heart. I want you to see the depth of my soul. I want you to see the kindness behind my eyes. I want you to see the happiness behind my smile. I want you to hear the soft words that flow from my lips. I want you love my delicate hands that write beautiful words that come to life. I want you to love my scarred legs, these legs are strong and keep me standing tall. I want you to love every inch of skin that covers my body.

I am a flawed human, but I am full of love to give. I have a certain beauty to offer and that beauty outweighs all my flaws combined. I want you to see my flaws as beauty in whole; the imperfections, the mix of emotions and my mistakes.

If you love my flaws, I will love all yours.

Originally published on Mitzi J Hernandez

Featured image via A.L. on Unsplash


  1. I take some degree of umbrage with your comments. There are no physical flaws. Scars are nothing more than tattoos, but with better stories. Scars are a beautiful testament to our body’s ability to heal itself. There is no imperfection because there is no perfect. If you have the personality flaws of cognitive dissonance and are able to recognize them, then you are also able to improve those behaviors. Nobody has to accept your concept of idiopathic behavior. There is a difference in accepting the flaws and loving them. You can expect to be loved. To put conditions on that love, is to advocate conditional love. I have been married for 43 years. My wife and I love each other dearly. We also irritate the hell out of each other from time to time. That is my observation of a life long love affair. We are both constantly seeking to improve our behavior. I am a much better man now than I was 43 years ago.


Please enter your comment!
Please enter your name here

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.