Hubby and I were talking in the car this morning about people, make up and how so many seem to judge a person by the wrappings rather than the inner pages.
Hubby liked me on our first meeting. I remember I wore a black skirt, and black batwing jumper (my favourite outfit of the time), a little bit of makeup, and a smile. I also talked a lot, and he let me.
One of the reasons both my first marriage and live in relationship failed was because I tried to be what other people wanted or expected me to be, not myself.
One of the reasons we moved away 11 years ago was to stop living our lives for other people.
What you see is what you get, no ulterior motive or hidden agenda.
So with that thought in mind, I came up with this:
If you can’t be yourself, who are you?