Last night I had a dream that I was a woman and this is how I felt:
Yes! I’m a woman. So what if I’m stupid? So what if I have a huge ego? So what if I make mistakes? So what if I make huge mistakes? So what if I dumped my 3 years’ boyfriend for another guy whose smile is cute? I have a lot of choices. I’m a woman. I’m confident. I’m real. I’m outgoing, sharp, witty and humorous. So what if no one else calls me that? I believe in myself. I’m beautiful. I represent my gender so I think it’s important not only to raise my voice, but also to keep it raised even over petty issues.
p style=”text-align:right;”>I have cheated twice in my relationship and I have the guts to accept it. I’m not a bitch, I’m not a slut and don’t you dare me call that! I’m a woman. I’m impatient and demanding. I want my man to be a gentleman. TDH. So what if I’m fat? Real men go for curves. Real men are sartorial. My man has to dress up like a real man. I don’t like wearing my bra sometimes. I’m just lazy. I love chocolates. I love flowers. I love being pampered. I love everything that the internet says should be loved by women.
My man should buy me everything that I desire. He should be capable. After all he is going to be MY MAN!
I’m ambitious. I deserve respect even though I haven’t done anything worth it because I am a woman. I’m free. Free to live, free to love, free to make mistakes, free to do what I want. No rules can keep me shackled. So what if I drove in the opposite direction on a one way road? I’m a woman. How do you expect me to know all the boring traffic rules? Look at me, I’m so tired of having to drive, can’t you just let me go ahead of you? Where is your respect for women? Show it now!
I’m from Venus. All women are from Venus and men are from Mars. I love using that line even though I don’t understand what it means. All men are the same. They want sex. Even if they say and prove that they love a woman, I know they want sex. I want sex too. I need to meet my bodily demands. But if men say that, it’s just another excuse to get laid. I don’t trust men. I’m sexy because I feel sexy. I’m hot, you’re not. So what if that sounds rude? I have freedom of thought.
I slept with my best friend’s boyfriend but don’t you call me a whore. Because I later felt terrible about it and wrote an article on ‘ThoughtCatalog’ about how terrible I felt. I want a nice wedding. That’s every girl’s dream. But I want to have a lot of fun before that. My boyfriend should stay loyal to me if he wants to marry me. But Neal is so alluring and rich. I’m just confused between these two guys. I don’t know who is better for me. I love Twilight. It’s so cute because even when Bella is confused between two guys, both of them love her madly. Why can’t that happen to me? I’m sweet and simple. I’m complicated. That’s why my boyfriend doesn’t understand me. I don’t even love him and he thinks we’d get married. Oh God! Did I just say that? Shit. Shit. Shit.
p style=”text-align:right;”>Actually I want someone better because I deserve better. I’m a 21st century woman. This is feminism, this is us and all you men are sexists, and I can say that in your face. Yes! I’m a woman.
(The dream ended there because I was sweating profusely in the bed and was thirsty and scared, yeah.)
Disclaimer: If you were born with the XX chromosome, I have a good news and a bad news for you. The good news is you’ll never get prostate cancer. The bad news is this article is going to prick you. So once you’re done reading it, make sure you don’t sulk at the editors of the mag. Reach me at firstname.lastname@example.org and tell me all you think about me. I’d love to use it.
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