That Kind of A Woman

For the longest time, I’ve wondered what kind of a woman am I. As we grow older and meet more people in our life, we also hear about different versions of ourselves. Friends, exes, people we once called friends, family, broken ties, colleagues etc., each one presents to us a version of ourselves. And at the end of it all, we often wonder which version is the right one. Is it all of it, or is it none of it? Can we be so many different people? Or can we be living a lie all this while?

Truth is not many people know who they actually are. It’s like one of those tests we writers do when are trying to crack a character. We try and find the core identity of that character. Try and apply that same logic to yourself and suddenly you’re in a fix. We aren’t trained to objectively look at ourselves. And even if we manage to do that we are trained to push it to the back of our mind as a crazy experiment that doesn’t serve any purpose. Humans are strange creatures. Women, are worse.

So, here’s me trying to analyze myself, from whatever parts of me I know and acknowledge to be true. Honestly I never really cared about versions of me from different people.

I’m the woman who was raised by the wolves and I know how to fight with bare teeth.

I’m the woman who can talk about sex in its ghastly details and still not flinch if it’s a man in front of me.

I’m the woman who can stare you down if you’re looking at my cleavage and make you feel ashamed of your balls.

I’m the woman who’ll smack your hand if it’s going the wrong place in the middle of the street.

I’m the woman who loves the water and will dive into stormy tides with no one to pull me back.

I’m the woman who is afraid of needles but has a tattoo secretly.

I’m the woman who can sleep in till 9 but run like a maniac before the sun rises.

I’m the woman who will be halfway to the south pole if you ask her to go north.

I’m the woman who looks in awe at people who completely love themselves.

I’m the woman who loves love, but is afraid of eventuality.

I’m the woman who cares a little too much but can be stone cold if I want to be.

I’m the woman who’ll puke after a long winding road but wants to jump out of a plane and sky dive.

I’m the woman who doesn’t know what she wants in life but is willing to try it all.

I’m the woman who knows for sure things she doesn’t want and will not even think of a compromise.

I’m the woman who can joke about body hair and will challenge you for having a better mustache.

I’m the woman who’ll wax my legs to wear that pretty dress for a girl’s wine night.

I’m the woman who’ll kiss you first but will be quick to add that she isn’t sure of the relationship.

I’m the woman who’ll look at the sky and watch the twinkling stars, but will fall asleep when you talk about constellations.

I’m the woman who plays with babies and cuddles them to sleep but I’m the woman who gives them back to you for they are yours to keep.

I’m the woman who couldn’t care a less about the election but who knows who she wants to vote for.

I’m the woman who doesn’t watch Netflix but can outsmart you when it comes to the story and plot.

I’m the woman who writes about sorrow and melancholy but throws her hair in the wind and laughs at everything.

I’m the woman who hates being home alone, but will ask you to leave after a couple of hours.

I’m the woman who paints every day but doesn’t know about post-impressionism art.

I’m the woman who forgets names and dates, but remember the way the sun feels.

I’m the woman who can cry myself to sleep and slap someone if they question me.

I’m the woman who’ll take your love to the grave but I won’t reveal it unless I have to.

I’m the woman who will wait till the time is right but will kick myself for waiting too long.

I’m the woman who does what she wants and is unapologetic when it goes wrong.

I’m the woman who will say sorry and mean it but won’t wait for you to accept it.

I’m the woman who loves fiercely, fights passionately, hates organically and lives lyrically.



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