So there I was — watching her spin.
She went looking for her niche,
and her brain started glitching like a busted radio.
Suddenly everyone was shinier.
Smarter. Quicker. Already doing it.
Enter stage left: Candy Compare,
all pearls and poison, whispering,
“Rule yourself out. There’s no room for you, babe.”
Oof. She almost listened.
Shrunk down to a spark.
Filed herself under “maybe someday.”
But then —
She remembered.
She wasn’t no thing.
She was everything.
A full-throated “hell yes” wrapped in stardust.
Being her wasn’t about proving.
Or performing.
Or piling on more glitter than the next guy.
It was about how she chose to see.
To see her way.
To say:
“I’m not trying to fit. I’m here to feel true.”
And that, my love?
That’s sovereign.
That’s worthy.
That’s you.
I am Zu, and I gotchu.
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