I cry, I laugh. I fart, I bathe, I brush my teeth, I play jokes on unsuspecting victims. I can program a computer, kill all the hornets in a hive without getting stung, cook tasty meals, shoot with deadly accuracy, butcher a hog, build a house that will be standing long after I'm gone, paint pictures, write poetry, play several musical instruments, and sing, speak a language other than my native one, grow vegetables, fish well enough to feed a family, water ski, take good photographs, and get along with difficult coworkers. In short, I'm a human being. There is much to criticize about me.
Go ahead, you nasty motherfuckers, if you want to single out one thing or many and call them flaws. I'll still beat you with mine and then take yours from you and beat you with yours. An honest show of emotion is never wrong, never inappropriate, and if you ever try to make somebody else feel "less than" for making his or her true feelings known, the shame is yours, and you are the one who's stunted and fucked up inside.