Tough Shit

I was the chubby kid, the gay kid, the “what are you?” kid,

The cafeteria target with a milk carton lid.

They said I’d peak at twelve — jokes on them, I never peaked,

I just emotionally disassociated and my eyebrows got fleeked.

They shoved me into lockers, said I’d never get a date—

Now I’m hot enough that their partners double-tap my face.

Your insults were cardio, your bullying my gym,

You powered up a glow-up out of pure spite and vim.

So thanks for the trauma, sincerely, no lie—

It fertilized the soil for the bad bitch I’d be by and by.

Now you wanna know me?

Tough shit — boo-hoo.

You didn’t like me then,

So what the hell makes you think I like you?

Oh, now I’m hot and successful and thriving and fit?

You only want my number ’cause your life turned to… well, shit.

Yeah, you wanna be friends now that I’m looking legit—

But babe, I checked my calendar:

I’m busy. Tough shit.

Now I walk in like Beyoncé with a punk attitude,

All confidence, eyeliner, and unbothered mood.

You’re in my DMs like, “Hey lol long time no see!”

Yeah, long time — about as long as your apology.

“You’ve changed!” you cry — yeah, that’s sort of the point,

I grew up, glowed up, and stopped smelling like disappointment.

I’d say no hard feelings, but that would be a lie,

I’ve got enough petty stored to power the sky.

And I’m saving it up like emotional bitcoin,

So when you come crawling back, I just roll my eyes and rejoin:

Now you wanna know me?

Tough shit, cry more.

You didn’t want me then,

Now I'm the snack AND the store.

You see my glow-up and suddenly you wanna commit?

Well, I’d rather date a cactus —

Tough. Shit.

You want forgiveness, redemption, a seat in my pit?

Sorry babe, applications closed.

Tough shit.

Here’s to the weird kids, the queer kids, the “wrong” ones,

Who blossomed into hotties while the bullies became coupons.

Yeah, the ones who said I’d fail? Now they ask for advice,

Like “how’d you get so pretty?” —

Bitch, trauma ain’t nice!

I took all your insults, turned them into my crown,

So suck it — I run this town.

Now you wanna know me?

Tough shit — move on.

The glow-up is legendary

And you’re just… not.

You only want me now that success finally hit,

But baby, this isn’t charity —

I don’t owe you one. damn. bit.

Yeah, you can watch from the sidelines while I look exquisite—

And guess what, sweetheart?

Tough motherfucking shit.