God forbid a woman has her own money to buy things for herself.
Apparently, this is where we draw the line. I have been earning for a few years now, and as of today, this is my third job—which sounds considerably more impressive when I say it like that and considerably less impressive when you look at my bank account. But this year was different. This year, I actually got to buy a few things for myself and for my family with money that I had earned. Nothing revolutionary, really. No private jet. No yacht. I bought a bike and, much later, a phone. But apparently, a woman earning money and then having the audacity to actually spend some of it is enough to raise a few eyebrows.
Let us travel back to February 2026, when we had an old bike. I remember my father had bought it second-hand from one of his friends, and it had served us faithfully for years. Then I started learning to ride it, and let's just say the motorcycle and I had a disagreement. Unfortunately, the disagreement ended rather badly for the motorcycle. I got into an accident while learning, the bike was heavily damaged, and eventually it was beyond repair. So, we were suddenly bike-less. After several family discussions, calculations, opinions, reconsiderations, and the we decided to buy a new bike. We had always been using second-hand bikes, so buying a new one was actually a considerable decision for us. Since the money was coming from me, it was decided that I would be the one to buy it. And what did we choose? The same , obviously. We had been using one for years, we trusted it, and there was no need to suddenly introduce ourselves to the complicated world of unnecessary experimentation.
So my father and I went to the showroom and told them very clearly that we wanted a Splendor. A remarkably simple transaction, you would think. But there was apparently a plot twist the showroom had not anticipated: the person buying the motorcycle was a woman. The salesperson started explaining why an Activa would be better. I said no, we wanted the bike. He explained again. I said no again, we wanted the bike. At this point I was beginning to wonder whether we had accidentally walked into a showroom for scooters rather than motorcycles. And then came the question from the manager—or whatever his exact designation was—accompanied by that wonderfully doubtful expression: “Ben, na name levani chhe?” Basically, “Madam, is it going to be in your name?” Yes. My name. I was paying for it. For approximately 0.7 seconds, my internal response was, “Na na, tamara name levani chhe kaka. Paisa tame bhari desho ne?” But unfortunately, society has not yet progressed enough for me to say everything I think in public, so I simply said yes. Eventually, they gave us the bike, and Nobody fainted. The government did not collapse ( how I wish it would have been) . The bike did not refuse to start because its owner happened to be a woman.
But the whole thing did leave me wondering: why was it surprising? Can women not ride motorcycles? Can women not buy motorcycles? Can women not put motorcycles in their own names? Apparently, somewhere between “women should work” and “women should be financially independent,” society forgot to install the update that says women can also spend the money they earn. Apparently, earning is empowering, but spending is where we need to call a committee meeting.
And then we arrive at Exhibit B: the phone. This happened less than 48 hours ago. Our salary increased. Not Ambani has adopted us increased. Not I have discovered generational wealth increased. Not I am now personally responsible for India's GDP increased. It simply increased. And since my old phone had been struggling to perform the basic duties of being a phone, circumstances eventually led me to buy a phone on EMI. Was it expensive? Yes. Did I immediately feel like I had committed financial fraud against my future self? Also yes. I was already sitting there questioning my own decision: I am sure? Do I need this? Could i have bought something cheaper? What happened to saving money? Am I financially responsible or are I am simply having a moment? Basically, I had already hired an entire internal committee to investigate my own purchase before anyone else had the opportunity. My father, however, had no problem with it. In fact, he encouraged me to buy it. So I did. New phone, better camera, better performance, something I wanted, something I bought with my own money. A perfectly ordinary little moment of treating myself after working and earning.
And then morning came. I shared the news about my new phone with the people around me, and one of the comments came from a person I know who has been working in a government job for several years and earns more than ₹70,000 a month. The comment was essentially along the lines of, “Salary has increased so much that now they're buying phones?” Maybe it was meant as a joke. Maybe it was simply an observation. Maybe there was no serious intention behind it at all. I don't want to put words into someone else's mouth or pretend that I know exactly what they meant. But it stayed with me. Not because somebody noticed that I bought an expensive phone—I am perfectly aware that it is an expensive purchase—but because it made me think about this strange little social rule that seems to exist around women and money.
Because this is the part I genuinely cannot understand. Apparently, when a woman is earning less, that is perfectly acceptable. Nobody seems particularly surprised by it. Nobody looks at her salary and thinks, “Oh my God, she's earning so little?” If anything, low earnings seem to make everything understandable. Of course she doesn't have this. Of course she can't afford that. Of course she is using an old phone. Fine. But when the same woman starts earning a little more and decides to buy something for herself, suddenly the purchase becomes visible. Suddenly people notice. Suddenly the salary becomes part of the conversation. And I genuinely want to understand the logic behind this. Why is a woman earning less somehow easier to accept than a woman earning more and spending some of that money? What is the acceptable salary-to-purchase ratio for women? Is there a government circular that I missed? ₹15,000 salary: basic phone. ₹20,000: slightly better phone. ₹30,000: please submit a written explanation as to why you require a new phone. Perhaps there is an entire department somewhere issuing permits for women who wish to buy something nicer than absolutely necessary.
And what makes the whole thing stranger is that nobody noticed when we were working with a lower salary. Nobody seemed particularly concerned that I was working while using a phone that was barely functioning. Nobody was announcing, “Look at her! She's working so hard and still using that terrible phone!” Nobody was particularly interested in whether I should buy something better. But let the salary increase a little and let me buy one nice thing, and suddenly it becomes breaking news. Salary increased. Woman bought phone. Investigation underway. I find the timing rather amusing.
And just to make the situation even more interesting, I know the person who made the comment may read this blog and think that I am being unfair. They may think I have taken a casual remark too seriously. They may say it was just a joke or that they didn't mean anything by it. And honestly, that may very well be true. I am not writing this to claim that I know their intention. I am writing about what the comment made me think about. Sometimes a casual sentence can accidentally point towards a much bigger idea, and this one made me realise how strange our attitudes towards women's money can be. Perhaps the comment was harmless. Perhaps my reaction was disproportionate. Perhaps both things can exist at the same time. I can accept that. But I can also still write about it.
Because there seems to be this invisible rule that women are allowed to earn, but preferably not too much; allowed to have jobs, but preferably sensible ones; allowed to be financially independent, but not so independent that anyone starts noticing; allowed to buy things, but preferably useful things; and if they buy something expensive, then obviously we need to know why. A phone? Fine, but not that phone. A vehicle? Fine, but perhaps an Activa would be more appropriate. A motorcycle? Excuse me? And if a woman buys something nice with her own money, everyone suddenly develops an accounting degree. Where did she get the money? How much does she earn? Why did she buy that? Does she really need it? Couldn't she have bought something cheaper? Why is she spending so much? Meanwhile, somewhere, a man buys a ₹1.5 lakh phone and people are likely to say, “Wah bhai, mast phone.” The man's financial decisions become a lifestyle choice. The woman's become a case study.
Perhaps we were supposed to keep the money in a glass jar. Maybe I should have been putting every salary increment into a transparent container so that everyone could admire the fact that I have money without actually seeing me spend it. Perhaps I should whisper “my precious” every time I receive my salary and then carefully return it to the cupboard. Maybe the acceptable way for a woman to demonstrate financial independence is to earn money, never use it for herself, and then proudly announce that she has saved everything. And if I do spend ₹500, perhaps I should issue a press release explaining the circumstances. Dear concerned citizens, I regret to inform you that I purchased something for myself today. I understand the seriousness of the situation and apologise for any inconvenience caused.
And yes, before anyone assumes that I think every purchase I make is financially brilliant: I don't. I already know I might have spent too much on the phone. I was questioning the decision before I even bought it. I am perfectly capable of looking at my EMI six months from now and thinking, Hmm. That wasn't my most financially sophisticated moment. And if I decide that I should have saved the money instead, I'll learn from it. That's called being an adult. Financial independence does not mean every financial decision you make is perfect. It means you get to make the decision and deal with the consequences. Sometimes you save. Sometimes you spend. Sometimes you buy something practical. Sometimes you buy something because you really, really want it. Sometimes you make an excellent financial decision, and sometimes you look at your bank statement and quietly whisper, What the hell was I thinking? That is not a gender-specific experience. That is simply called being a person with a bank account.
The thing nobody talks about is how invisible financial struggle can be. Nobody notices when you are earning a small salary. Nobody notices the things you postpone because you cannot afford them. Nobody notices the broken phone or the things you quietly decide not to buy. Nobody notices how much work you are doing. But let your circumstances improve slightly, buy one nice thing, and suddenly everyone has eyes. Suddenly your salary is public information. Suddenly your spending habits require commentary. Suddenly someone else's curiosity about your purchase becomes a conversation. And maybe that is what bothers me most—not that somebody commented on my phone, but that the comment made me think about how easily a woman's financial progress can become something people feel entitled to examine.
And before I finish, I have one more piece of information for the person who this blog is about, because I already know you might find this entire thing unfair. This isn't even my first phone. It isn't my second either. It is my third phone that I bought myself. And the phone I bought yesterday makes it my fourth. So, unfortunately, I have some bad news: I will probably keep buying things. Yes, things. With my own money. How absolutely outrageous. Maybe another phone someday. Maybe books—almost certainly books. Maybe clothes. Maybe something for my parents. Maybe something completely unnecessary that I will confidently convince myself was absolutely necessary. Maybe I'll save the money instead. Maybe I'll invest it. Maybe I'll make an excellent financial decision. Maybe I'll make a terrible one and regret it. Either way, I will probably continue making my own financial decisions, because apparently that is what happens when someone earns their own money.
I am not saying that every woman should spend recklessly just because she has a salary. I am not saying that expensive things are automatically better. I am not even saying that my phone purchase was the smartest thing I could have done. It probably wasn't. But there is a difference between giving someone financial advice and treating their spending as something suspicious simply because they are a woman who has started earning a little more. I can look at my own finances and decide whether something is affordable. I can save. I can spend. I can make mistakes. I can learn. I can buy something nice without needing to prove that I have suffered sufficiently to deserve it.
If someone reads this and thinks I am being unfair, maybe I am. If they think I misunderstood the original comment, perhaps I did. If they think I am making too much of it, that's also their opinion. They are entitled to it. But I am equally entitled to notice the absurdity of a world where a woman having less money is treated as perfectly normal, while a woman earning a little more and actually buying something with it becomes worthy of commentary.
I worked for the money. I earned it. I am still learning how to manage it. I will probably make mistakes with it. And I will probably buy things with it.
So, yes.
I will keep buying things.
With my money.
On my terms.
And if there is another phone someday?
Well...
God forbid a woman has her own money.
