Am I still a woman?

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.