I'll Prove You Wrong
I'll Prove You Wrong I was built in the kind of quiet that teaches you everything — how to carry weight without showing it, how to keep going when no one's watching, how to turn pressure into a posture. I don't do regular energy — mine's different. Rooted. Refined. Relentless. I've been underestimated so many times I made peace with it, then I outgrew every room they tried to keep me in. They counted me out before I even spoke — like I wasn't forged from hard seasons, from staying soft when the world said harden, from choosing grace when I had every right to break. But I know who I am now. Not because it was easy — because I earned every layer of myself through every trial that tried to define me. So when they mistake my stillness for weakness, my warmth for naivety, my glow for something that came without cost — I don't argue. I don't explain. I simply become more of who I already am — and beautifully, gracefully, I prove them wrong.
