I am Woman…………

I am woman but there’s no need to hear me roar. I’m the new kind of feminist. I’m the feminist that accepts her vagina; that embraces her period with an almost fervent excitement when it comes (yeah right, by the time menstrual pain finishes with me, I’ll be cursing Eve). I’m the feminist who doesn’t need to burn her bra (heck it’s too fine and pretty to burn) and never miss an appointment to get waxed, buffed and preened. I’m the feminist who changes her wardrobe very often and has as many skirts and she does trousers – the shorter the skirts the better. I’m the feminist who owns two kinds of shoes: 6-inch high heels and very masculine trainers (the masculine the better). I’m the feminist who smiles when men wolf whistles at her while she’s walking down the street but isn’t afraid to stand up to “eve taunting”.

I’m also the feminist who isn’t scared of studying physics, math or engineering nor thinks that sociology, home economics and art history are for wimps. I’m the feminist who will go on an oilrig and would also be a housewife. I’m the feminist who aspires to be the chairman of the board but wouldn’t mind being the wife of the chairman of the board. I’m the feminist who splits the bill (sometimes even covering the bill) and who also doesn’t mind if the man covers the check. I’m the feminist who can be the president, senator, secretary of state and I’m also the one who’ll take maternity leave of 3 years just to ensure that my child is well brought up.

I’m the feminist who won’t baby my husband’s ego but I’m also the feminist who’ll step up when he says: “Baby I need your help” and not rub it in his face. I’m the feminist who doesn’t wait for men to call (“his loss” I say) and I’m the feminist who won’t call a guy first (For Why? I have too much self-respect). I’m the feminist who won’t play games – if I like you, I like you; I’m also the feminist who knows when it is over – I won’t beg you to love me (Haba, na by force). I’m the feminist who isn’t scared to express herself sexually (If I want on top or I want to scream my head off or talk dirty — whose business) and I’m the feminist who won’t sleep with just any guy just to prove that I can be a man. I’m the feminist comfortable driving a V12 or W16 engine with a 9 speed manual transmission (Audi R8 and Bugatti Veyron stand up and take your applause please!!!!) and I’m the feminist who’ll be comfortable driving a Kia Picanto (no offense to Kia owners but men that car is tiny).

I am woman, there’s no need for me to roar (it’s actually very uncouth to be roaring – am I an animal? Abeg oh). I’m soft on the inside and I am as hard as diamond on the outside. I am woman, I’ll cut glass but at the same time I’m not ashamed to cry. I am the new feminist and I embrace my femininity!!!!!!!!!!!!!

On that last ramble, I say “Good night, Good luck and don’t forget to tip your waitresses”