She learned early how to make herself smaller,
To laugh before the punchline came.
To wear armor made of sarcasm,
And answer to the names they gave.
She hid in library corners,
Between dog-eared pages and borrowed time.
Found pieces of herself in heroines
Who survived and still chose to shine.
She built kingdoms out of fiction,
Mapped the stars from her bedroom floor.
Dreaming of a world that loved her
For everything she couldn’t ignore.
She was never too much.
She was never not enough.
She was simply a wildfire
In a world that only understood smoke.
She’s nerdy, dirty, inked and curvy,
A contradiction wrapped in grace.
Carries every battle on her body,
But never wears defeat upon her face.
She knows heartbreak.
She knows mercy.
Knows the weight of being misunderstood.
Beautiful and bruised, fierce and worthy—
She became exactly who she said she would.
The tattoos came a little later,
Like constellations across her skin.
Every line another reminder
Of the wars she didn’t let win.
People only saw the surface—
The quick wit and the crooked smile.
Never noticed how she second-guessed
Whether she deserved to stay awhile.
She loved with reckless honesty,
The kind that leaves your hands shaking.
The kind that isn’t fashionable
In a generation built on leaving.
She kept offering softness
To people who mistook it for surrender.
Never understanding that kindness
Can survive and still be dangerous.
She’s nerdy, dirty, inked and curvy,
Reads poetry like scripture in the dark.
She’s all sharp edges and open hands,
Still protecting her hopeful heart.
She knows loneliness.
She knows longing.
Knows how silence echoes through a room.
Beautiful and bruised, fierce and worthy—
She taught herself how to bloom.
She carries galaxies behind her ribs,
Entire oceans in her veins.
A thousand versions of the girl she was
Whispering, “You survived the pain.”
But every morning she rises anyway.
And chooses this life again.
She’s nerdy, dirty, inked and curvy,
And none of those words are apologies.
She’s intelligence and instinct,
Scar tissue and loyalty.
She’s fantasy novels and thunder storms,
Late-night confessions and Sunday peace.
The girl they underestimated,
The woman who found her own release.
She knows grief.
She knows glory.
Knows healing doesn’t happen clean.
Beautiful and bruised, fierce and worthy—
Still becoming everything she’s meant to be.
She didn’t arrive untouched.
She didn’t arrive unafraid.
But after everything that tried to break her,
She finally arrived.
