Imperfect

Beauty fades. I want to be loved for my imperfections. In a perfect world we would all love and embrace ourselves for who we are and how we were made. I want someone who thinks I am sexy in my pj's with no makeup on. I want someone who loves the flaws of my body as much or more than the things more near what "men" deem acceptable. They are me. I am imperfect. If I must be judged, judge me by my heart and soul, not the size of my bust. Judge me by the things I have done for others and what I have given of myself to improve the world. Not how much I do or do not fit society's unrealistic idea of a woman. Judge me by my sincerity, my kindness.  My faithfulness and what kind of person I am. Not how much my body differs from your twisted version of ideal. The beauty I hold comes from my heart, not my body. And if you don't love my imperfections, then you could never love me. I am imperfect. I want to be loved for my imperfections. THAT is real love