Before the stage…Before the wealth…Before the way was madeThere was me.Sitting on a couch with my knees pulled to my chest, wondering if I’d ever breathe free again.And I never told you.
You saw me rising.You saw the music.The lyrics. The launches. The smile.But you never saw me walking through rooms I didn’t want to be in,Holding peace with people I outgrew,Crying over invoices I couldn’t pay,Choosing faith while I couldn’t feel my face from the stress.That part? I didn’t post it.I lived it.
I’ve been without.I’ve been lied on, left behind, told to wait my turn.I’ve watched money come in and vanish like smoke.I’ve buried dreams and resurrected them with my bare hands.I’ve kept quiet to keep the peace.I’ve stayed longer than I should’ve, just to not rock the boat.
But you know what?The storm came anyway.And now I don’t apologize for the woman who made it through.Because you’re not looking at someone lucky.You’re looking at someone chosen.Someone prepared.Someone anointed by experience.
So when you see me glowing,When you hear that I moved, that I met her, that I made itDon’t you dare think it just fell in my lap.This was paid for…In silence. In tears. In nights I didn’t think I’d make it to morning.But I did.And now I rise.
This is what becoming looks like.And if it’s your season?You can rise too.
