cause and effect easy

Anonymous
timer Asked: Oct 17th, 2018
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Question Description

I have written an essay I want to proof read my easy and pay attention to the commas, fractions, grammar and parallelism in the coordinator, check if the dialog is written correctly and edit it

Perfectionism

Like most rich Arabian mothers, mine was consumed by the presentation of her child. It was an ever-present source of anxiety to prove that I was just as well-groomed, successful, and moral as she wants me to be. Unlike my cousins, they would play, hair uncombed, no shoes, traces of chocolate and ice cream they eaten smeared in their faces, completely joyful and oblivious to any possible defects their appearance and future. I, on the other hand, had to be taught and fixed. To be perfect, during childhood and teenage years, my mother used to wake me up two hours before school so she can straighten my hair and teach me for at least four hours after so I can be an honor student. And only then was I perfect. One morning, while my mother straightening my hair, she said,“You deserve the world, one day, you are going to find a man who will give it to you.” Since then, I believed I have to be perfect to get love and marry. Perfect look, perfect hair, perfect job, and perfect attitude these were the center of my life.

Studying Computer Engineering was boring but it requires an extensive college education that most people will think that only successful women can achieve. I fall in love with Abod, a computer engineer at Aramco, one of the largest companies in the world. I had to be perfect all the time that I was with him to love me. Purchasing high-end designer clothes was a monthly habit just to impress Abod each time he sees me. I also used to go to the salon three times a week to do my hair and nails just for him.My hair should be shiny, silky, and long as he loved. On weekdays, I used to wake up two hours before I go to work to put ideal makeup and wear stylish clothes. Wearing fancy clothes all day long was to get his attention and to not be bored from me. Furthermore, my behavior was so conservative in front of Abod, never laughed loudly, never danced with him, never eaten with my hands frightening to make mistakes that might not like.

I spent four years with Abod, marriage was the next step for our relationship. In our fourth anniversary, I saw a small red jewelry box from a Cartier, which most Arab use to buy wedding rings from. I felt as if my heart is racing like it's going to beat out of my chest. I had to be perfectly groomed for that night, so I went to Dolce and Gabbana, an Italian luxury fashion house, to buy a dress. I also went to one of the best salons in the city for five hours to do my hair, nails, and makeup. I told my family that he will propose tonight, a bride to be. After the dinner, the big moment came, he said you are perfect” and gave me the red box with the yellow bow which I acted surprised to see and start screaming and jumping “yes..yes”. I opened the box and saw an earring! I told him that I was expecting him to propose which made me thinking now if he will ever propose. Abod said, “I would never propose. I don’t even know you! I know you are beautiful, you are smart, you dress right, you act right. You always know what to say but I do not know you! You never take a chance because you always want to be perfect. Being 24/7 perfection is like being on a four-year first date.” It was a real slap in the face.

Perfectionism made me forget myself, realizing that I do not have to be perfect to be loved was hard. I do not have to be perfect because whoever will love me, will love me the way I am. I am pretty from the inside and outside without getting my makeup and hair done. I also become aware that I do not have to wear like a supermodel when I get out of my house. Quitting the salons and malls gave me more time to myself to read books, more hours to sleep, and more money for charity. It is totally acceptable to make mistakes and to be wrong. And I do not have to be perfect to please others, I now only care about my happiness without concerns about others' evaluations. Jumping and dancing on the streets becoming a new fun part of my new me.

Thank you

Unformatted Attachment Preview

Perfectionism Like most rich Arabian mothers, mine was consumed by the presentation of her child. It was an ever-present source of anxiety to prove that I was just as well-groomed, successful, and moral as she wants me to be. Unlike my cousins, they would play, hair uncombed, no shoes, traces of chocolate and ice cream they eaten smeared in their faces, completely joyful and oblivious to any possible defects their appearance and future. I, on the other hand, had to be taught and fixed. To be perfect, during childhood and teenage years, my mother used to wake me up two hours before school so she can straighten my hair and teach me for at least four hours after so I can be an honor student. And only then was I perfect. One morning, while my mother straightening my hair, she said, “You deserve the world, one day, you are going to find a man who will give it to you.” Since then, I believed I have to be perfect to get love and marry. Perfect look, perfect hair, perfect job, and perfect attitude these were the center of my life. Studying Computer Engineering was boring but it requires an extensive college education that most people will think that only successful women can achieve. I fall in love with Abod, a computer engineer at Aramco, one of the largest companies in the world. I had to be perfect all the time that I was with him to love me. Purchasing high-end designer clothes was a monthly habit just to impress Abod each time he sees me. I also used to go to the salon three times a week to do my hair and nails just for him. My hair should be shiny, silky, and long as he loved. On weekdays, I used to wake up two hours before I go to work to put ideal makeup and wear stylish clothes. Wearing fancy clothes all day long was to get his attention and to not be bored from me. Furthermore, my behavior was so conservative in front of Abod, never laughed loudly, never danced with him, never eaten with my hands frightening to make mistakes that might not like. I spent four years with Abod, marriage was the next step for our relationship. In our fourth anniversary, I saw a small red jewelry box from a Cartier, which most Arab use to buy wedding rings from. I felt as if my heart is racing like it's going to beat out of my chest. I had to be perfectly groomed for that night, so I went to Dolce and Gabbana, an Italian luxury fashion house, to buy a dress. I also went to one of the best salons in the city for five hours to do my hair, nails, and makeup. I told my family that he will propose tonight, a bride to be. After the dinner, the big moment came, he said “you are perfect” and gave me the red box with the yellow bow which I acted surprised to see and start screaming and jumping “yes..yes”. I opened the box and saw an earring! I told him that I was expecting him to propose which made me thinking now if he will ever propose. Abod said, “I would never propose. I don’t even know you! I know you are beautiful, you are smart, you dress right, you act right. You always know what to say but I do not know you! You never take a chance because you always want to be perfect. Being 24/7 perfection is like being on a four-year first date.” It was a real slap in the face. Perfectionism made me forget myself, realizing that I do not have to be perfect to be loved was hard. I do not have to be perfect because whoever will love me, will love me the way I am. I am pretty from the inside and outside without getting my makeup and hair done. I also become aware that I do not have to wear like a supermodel when I get out of my house. Quitting the salons and malls gave me more time to myself to read books, more hours to sleep, and more money for charity. It is totally acceptable to make mistakes and to be wrong. And I do not have to be perfect to please others, I now only care about my happiness without concerns about others' evaluations. Jumping and dancing on the streets becoming a new fun part of my new me. Perfectionism Like most rich Arabian mothers, mine was consumed by the presentation of her child. It was an ever-present source of anxiety to prove that I was just as well-groomed, successful, and moral as she wants me to be. Unlike my cousins, they would play, hair uncombed, no shoes, traces of chocolate and ice cream they eaten smeared in their faces, completely joyful and oblivious to any possible defects their appearance and future. I, on the other hand, had to be taught and fixed. To be perfect, during childhood and teenage years, my mother used to wake me up two hours before school so she can straighten my hair and teach me for at least four hours after so I can be an honor student. And only then was I perfect. One morning, while my mother straightening my hair, she said, “You deserve the world, one day, you are going to find a man who will give it to you.” Since then, I believed I have to be perfect to get love and marry. Perfect look, perfect hair, perfect job, and perfect attitude these were the center of my life. Studying Computer Engineering was boring but it requires an extensive college education that most people will think that only successful women can achieve. I fall in love with Abod, a computer engineer at Aramco, one of the largest companies in the world. I had to be perfect all the time that I was with him to love me. Purchasing high-end designer clothes was a monthly habit just to impress Abod each time he sees me. I also used to go to the salon three times a week to do my hair and nails just for him. My hair should be shiny, silky, and long as he loved. On weekdays, I used to wake up two hours before I go to work to put ideal makeup and wear stylish clothes. Wearing fancy clothes all day long was to get his attention and to not be bored from me. Furthermore, my behavior was so conservative in front of Abod, never laughed loudly, never danced with him, never eaten with my hands frightening to make mistakes that might not like. I spent four years with Abod, marriage was the next step for our relationship. In our fourth anniversary, I saw a small red jewelry box from a Cartier, which most Arab use to buy wedding rings from. I felt as if my heart is racing like it's going to beat out of my chest. I had to be perfectly groomed for that night, so I went to Dolce and Gabbana, an Italian luxury fashion house, to buy a dress. I also went to one of the best salons in the city for five hours to do my hair, nails, and makeup. I told my family that he will propose tonight, a bride to be. After the dinner, the big moment came, he said “you are perfect” and gave me the red box with the yellow bow which I acted surprised to see and start screaming and jumping “yes..yes”. I opened the box and saw an earring! I told him that I was expecting him to propose which made me thinking now if he will ever propose. Abod said, “I would never propose. I don’t even know you! I know you are beautiful, you are smart, you dress right, you act right. You always know what to say but I do not know you! You never take a chance because you always want to be perfect. Being 24/7 perfection is like being on a four-year first date.” It was a real slap in the face. Perfectionism made me forget myself, realizing that I do not have to be perfect to be loved was hard. I do not have to be perfect because whoever will love me, will love me the way I am. I am pretty from the inside and outside without getting my makeup and hair done. I also become aware that I do not have to wear like a supermodel when I get out of my house. Quitting the salons and malls gave me more time to myself to read books, more hours to sleep, and more money for charity. It is totally acceptable to make mistakes and to be wrong. And I do not have to be perfect to please others, I now only care about my happiness without concerns about others' evaluations. Jumping and dancing on the streets becoming a new fun part of my new me. ...
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Tutor Answer

Juniper
School: Purdue University

Hello buddy, kindly find your edited paper attached below. Let me know if you have any question. Thank you

Perfectionism
Like most rich Arabian mothers, mine was consumed by the presentation of her child. It was an
ever-present source of anxiety to prove that I was just as well-groomed, successful, and moral as
she wanted me to be. For my cousins, they would play with uncombed hair, no shoes, traces of
chocolate, and ice cream smeared on their faces; completely joyful and oblivious to any possible
defects on their appearance and future. I, on the other hand, had to be taught and fixed. To be
perfect, during childhood and teenage years, my mother used to wake me up two hours before
school so as to straighten my hair, and teach me for about an hour so as to prepare me to be an
excellent student. One morning, while ...

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Anonymous
Top quality work from this guy! I'll be back!

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