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Wednesday, September 4, 2013

You are all special - The Richfield Reaper: Letters To The Editor

You are all special - The Richfield Reaper: Letters To The Editor


I have a message for all the women, young and old, that take time to read this. I have always had a desire to be myself and not let the world change who I am.
I have never put makeup on to impress a young man, or anyone else. I have never dressed myself in the styles of the year. I avoid people who I know will try to change me. I have always believed that if they don’t like me for me, I was not going to change to make them happy.
I am almost 19 and engaged to the most respectful, loving, kind gentleman I have ever met. He does not require me to wear a mask of makeup — in fact, he is very happy I don’t. He does not expect me to wear anything more than T-shirts and jeans, because he thinks I look good in anything. He does not try to change who I am, and he supports me in everything, and stands beside me the whole time.
But, the most important thing is he not only knows all my faults and accepts all my faults, but he loves me for them.
This message is to tell you not to get caught up in a man who will change you. Because in changing you so you’re right for him, he doesn’t really love you for you. He loves the you that he created. The mask, the image, and not the woman hidden underneath it.
I have seen it time and time again and not only in high school where the girl is left on the side, forgotten for another so quickly. She is wondering what she did wrong; she did everything he asked of her. Yet, he still left her standing there unsure of who she is.
The answer of what you did wrong would most likely be you tried to be who you were not. So, remember you women out there, that you are all special in your own unique way. Don’t try to be your friends, or like the head cheerleader or anything like that. Because the best gift I have ever been given so far in this life is the gift of being loved for me — my faults and all.
Be loved for who you are, and not for who you are not.

Emma Huls