What if I don’t?
What if I don’t
Lower my voice
To fit the room,
Or raise my eyes only when allowed?
What if I choose
Numbers over nods,
Boots over bangles,
Questions over quiet?
What if I wake before dawn
Not to prove rebellion,
But because discipline
Feels like devotion to myself?
What if I walk alone at night
Not as a statement,
Not as defiance,
But because the road belongs
To humans, not fear?
What if I fail, retry, rebuild—
Not bravely,
Not beautifully,
Just honestly,
Like anyone learning to live?
What if I don’t dream softly,
Don’t wait politely,
Don’t shrink ambition
Into something digestible?
What if my freedom
Isn’t loud,
Isn’t reckless,
But steady—
A quiet insistence
That my life is mine?
Not because I am a girl.
Not because I am different.
But because I am human,
And choice is not a privilege—
It is a right.

.    .    .