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Girl Undefined

Exercising my creative freedoms. Lyrics: Tasha 2V, Album: Define a girl Vocals: Tasha 2V, Music: DJ Isabis I was born into a color code, pink plastic, soft mode, “be gentle,” “be quiet,” “don’t climb, don’t riot.” They dressed me in a future I never chose, stitched bows on my fists so they couldn’t close. Every doll had a smile I was meant to copy, every rule was a fence, every fence was a hobby. “Good girl,” they said, when I shrank myself small, I learned early that shrinking was winning it all. But the ground shifted, and the rules flipped, and the same mouth that said “be sweet” now whispered “don’t slip.” Welcome to the calibration years, where every move is policed by peers. “Not too loud,” “not too shy,” “don’t be easy,” “don’t deny.” They fear the tomboy, fear the spark, fear the girl who runs wild in the dark. But they want you pretty, want you thin, want you sexy, but pure, but ready, but pinned. I learned to walk like a warning sign, a body they wanted but a mind out of line. And then they said, “Grow up. But stay the same. Be a woman now, but play the girl game.” Clock in, clock out, keep smiling through, be productive, be grateful, be pretty on cue. Ambition’s allowed; if it’s quiet and neat, don’t outshine the men, don’t take up the seat. “Find a partner,” “settle down,” “don’t be picky,” “don’t wear the crown.” And the whispers start circling like vultures above: “Is she ready for kids?” “Is she worthy of love?” Every question a verdict, every verdict a chain, every chain a reminder: stay in your lane. Mother or not, they’ll judge you the same. Different script, same blame. If you have kids: you must be tireless, flawless, endlessly kind, a saint with a schedule, a goddess assigned. Work like you don’t have them, raise them like you don’t work, smile through exhaustion, never dare to shirk. If you don’t: you owe the world an explanation, a thesis, a reason, a justification. They call you selfish, call you cold, as if your body was theirs to mold. Either way, you’re a story they think they wrote, a vessel they claim, a life they remote‑control. But time moves, and the mirror shifts, and the world starts taking back its gifts. Now they say: “stay young,” “stay smooth,” “stay relevant,” “stay light,” as if aging were a failure, not a natural right. You fade from their gaze the moment you’re real, the moment your face shows the life you feel. Unless you’re a grandmother, then you’re allowed a small, soft corner of the family crowd. Or you’re the “cat lady,” the joke they rehearse, a woman who chose herself, their favorite curse. But I see through the script, the erasure, the lie: they fear a woman who stops trying to comply. So hear me now: I was never the girl you tried to define, never the doll, never the warning sign. I was the glitch in your system, the truth you declined, the life you couldn’t label, the force unconfined. I won’t bend to your blueprint, won’t shrink to your frame, won’t carry your dreams, won’t answer your claim. If I stop bending, the world will have to. If we all stop bending, the world will crack through. I am not your stages, not your roles assigned. I am woman. Undefined. I am woman. Undefined. ------ ------ ------ Music prompting: Tasha 2V Sound: Suno Art prompting: Tasha 2V Art: ChatGPT