I am a perfectionist with a capital P. Let down if I get less or equivalent to a B, because I want to be the best that I can be, and yet, I can never seem to keep my room clean for more than a week...

 

I am a body completely broken by heartbreak. My eyes never ending rivers, and my nose like the Niagara Falls upon my pillow after a night of crying myself to sleep. I am, have to wake up to pillow wet from tears and mouth drool... Mornings for me are never pretty.

 

I am hairy bear arms. My mother trying to convince me when I was younger that it was the Italian in me. My Mediterranean skin and thick hair was something to be proud of, a beautiful gift from my Italian ancestors... Then why don't I feel beautiful? Then why did the boys on the playground make fun of me and call me a boy?

 

And the hair doesn't stop there.

 

I am unruly eyebrows, mustache needing waxed every other week. I am legs, arms needing shaven constantly. I am side burns that I wish were not as long and dark as they are. I am even that one pesky hair that pops up, unwelcomed, on my chin.

 

I am acne. I am baby bunions on my feet because I dedicated ten years of life and body to dance.

 

I am big nose, uneven eyelids, and pointy "elf' ears.

 

I am, cannot do ten pushups without collapsing and would die running a marathon. I am, cannot even calculate how many miles it would be if I ran a 5k marathon!

 

I am sometimes not showing enough appreciation where appreciation is due.

 

I am also wide "toe" thumbs... Yes, like the ones Megan Fox has, but I don't even have her beautiful face as a redeeming quality.

 

I am a messy romantic. I am tripped up on words or no idea where to begin when talking to a cute boy, or girl, person at work, person on metro. I am a communications major who can't even mutter a confident hello at a party.

 

I am a wine lover and cheese lover and bread, chocolate cake, french fry lover. I am no thigh gap! I am rock hard "flabs." I am heavier than I want to be, but I am me.

 

And these flaws are what make up who I am.

 

And I don't mean to correct the great Beyoncé herself (long live the queen!), but I think her lyrics are a bit misleading:

 

"I woke up like this... Flawless!"

 

I know what she meant. Even though we have imperfections we can still feel flawless.

 

But why can't we be flawed and feel beautiful?

 

Why do I have to wake up and pretend I'm flawless when I know I'm not?

 

Yes, I now what she means. We can feel flawless by accepting our flaws and seeing the beauty in them.

 

But why not say that? Why say "flawless"?

 

I am FLAWED!

 

I want to wear my flaws with confidence and say, "Yes, I have a toe thumb!" Even if I cringe the first hundred times I say it!

 

I don't want to live a lie and just pretend my flaws aren't there, because I'm not fooling anyone.

 

I want to say, "I woke up like this... Flawed!" Not flawless, but flawFUL.

 

Full of flaws, combining flawed with beautiFUL, adding some FLavor to awFUL, flawful.

 

I want to wake up feeling flawful, and I encourage you beautifully flawed people to do the same.