Am I still a woman if I tell you that I don’t like diamonds?
Am I any less of a woman if I tell you that I’d rather have my neck unadorned than bedecked with elegant jewellery?
Am I still a woman if I say that I can survive with one pair of shoes for as long as they don’t wear out and maybe, even then I’ll fix them first before discarding them completely?
Will I be less of a woman if I admit that sometimes I prefer the company of men where the hassles are less and there is no censorship?
Will the women banish me from womanhood if I admit that I think the Sale Season is the worst season to do shopping and one shouldn’t shop more than thrice a year?
Am I still a girl if I can’t cry at the drop of a hat and not even in movies (unless, of course, if it’s Hachiko or Marley and Me or Free Willy. Okay, all animal/pet based movies)?
Sometimes, dressing up seems like a chore and if it takes more than 10 minutes, I give up. Does that make me less feminine?
I enjoy the attention when a man chases after me but sometimes, I like to chase as well. I want to take the first step. I want to be the one down on my knee, sometimes. I’m not shy. Does that reduce my value as a woman?
I love children and I was born to be a mother. But what if I decide that I don’t want to have children of my own? Do I still get to claim that a “Woman, I am”?
What if my wedding day is not the biggest dream that I have?
What if I love being a woman and still don’t love all the things that all women do?
Am I woman? Because I feel, a woman, I am, despite every contradiction.
(P.S. The Blog Give Away I told you about in my last post, begins from Monday .i.e. 11th November. Watch this space for more details!)