We come to love not by finding a perfect person but by learning

“We come to love not by finding a perfect person but by learning to see an imperfect person perfectly.” — thus spoke Sam Keen, the philosopher and seeker of the human heart. In these words lies a truth as deep as time itself — that love is not the pursuit of flawlessness, but the awakening of understanding. For the eyes that seek perfection will never see beauty, and the heart that demands purity will never know peace. Love, Keen reminds us, is not an illusion born of idealism, but a discipline of the soul — a way of seeing beyond imperfection to the sacred humanity within another being.

Sam Keen, a modern philosopher and author known for exploring love, intimacy, and meaning, wrote these words as a reflection on the difference between fantasy and connection. He saw that in an age obsessed with perfection — of bodies, of minds, of lives — people had forgotten the true art of love: acceptance. His words are both a revelation and a warning — for to love only the perfect is to love a dream, but to love the imperfect is to love reality. And reality, with all its roughness and shadow, is where the soul finds its deepest joy.

To see an imperfect person perfectly is not to ignore their flaws, but to understand them — to recognize that imperfection is the fabric of life. Every scar has a story, every fault a reason. The wise lover does not turn away from these marks; they trace them gently, and through understanding, they find beauty where others see only blemish. It is through this vision — through compassion, patience, and empathy — that love matures from passion into purpose. Keen’s teaching is not sentimental; it is courageous. For only the brave can love without illusion.

The ancients, too, knew this truth. In the writings of Plato, we read of Diotima’s teaching to Socrates — that love begins with the admiration of beauty but must rise higher, to the love of the soul and the divine. To see someone “perfectly,” as Keen says, is to see not their outward form, but their essence — to love them not for what they are, but for who they are becoming. In this way, love becomes a mirror — revealing not only the other, but ourselves. For when we learn to love another’s imperfection, we learn to forgive our own.

Consider the story of Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera, two artists whose love was as turbulent as it was enduring. Each bore wounds — Frida with her fragile body, Diego with his restless heart — yet they saw in one another a reflection of shared pain and fierce creativity. Their love was not free from conflict, nor was it pure by ordinary measure. But it was real, born of recognition and acceptance. Frida once wrote, “I love you more than my own skin.” It was not perfection she loved, but presence — the fullness of a flawed human being. Their bond, like Keen’s wisdom, teaches us that the highest form of love is not adoration, but understanding.

To love the imperfect perfectly is also to embrace impermanence. For all things change — faces age, tempers waver, dreams evolve — and those who love only perfection will find themselves always disappointed. But those who see with the eyes of understanding know that beauty lies in the changing, in the becoming. They see the divine pattern even in the cracks of the vessel, as the Japanese art of kintsugi teaches: the broken bowl, repaired with gold, becomes more precious than before. Love, too, is the art of mending — not discarding — the broken pieces.

Therefore, my children, remember this: love is not a quest for the flawless, but a practice of seeing rightly. When you love, love with wisdom, not blindness. See the humanity in others as you wish yours to be seen. When flaws appear, do not flee; instead, look closer, and find the lesson they offer. The one who learns to see imperfection perfectly lives in harmony with truth. For love is not about completion — it is about communion, the joining of two imperfect beings in the shared pursuit of wholeness.

So let this be your teaching: do not seek the perfect partner, but seek the perfect vision — the eyes of compassion, patience, and understanding. Let your love be wide enough to hold mistakes, deep enough to forgive, and strong enough to endure. For as Sam Keen reminds us, love begins not when we find perfection, but when we learn to see imperfection with perfect grace — and in that moment, we touch the eternal heart of what it means to be human.