SEVEN (Women's Version)

[Intro | spoken, calm and thunderous] No permission slip. No perfect script. Just a body, a mind, a heart— and a world that will try to price them. Tonight—seven truths. Not to shrink you. To sharpen you. [Verse 1] They’ll call you “too much” when you finally take space, Then call you “too quiet” if you swallow your pace. You’ll learn the double-binds by the time you’re grown— Smile, but not too wide; shine, but not on your own. You’ll be asked to be beautiful, useful, unbothered, To mother the room while you’re still being mothered. And somewhere in the noise you will hear your own voice— Not a whisper of fear. A demand for a choice. [Pre-Chorus] So you build your spine out of daily no’s, And you water your life where your real self grows. No crown, no rescue, no magic sign— Just the moment you stop abandoning your mind. [Chorus | stadium-sized] Seven hard truths like diamonds in the dust— If you want a life, you learn to choose your trust. No one can live it for you, no one can feel your scars, But you can turn that pressure into constellations, stars. Stand tall—soft power, sharp vision, Make peace with boundaries, make war on permission. Love deep. Live loud. Hold the line. Be a woman—by design, not by time. [Verse 2] Truth is: beauty is currency, but it’s not your worth, And the world will spend it like it owns your earth. So you learn to separate gaze from soul, Keep your body your home, not a public role. They’ll sell you “balance” like a pretty lie— Do it all, never break, never ask why. But strength isn’t silence and grace isn’t pain, And “fine” isn’t a virtue—just a polite chain. [Pre-Chorus] You don’t have to be easy to be loved. You have to be honest. And enough. [Chorus] Seven hard truths like diamonds in the dust— If you want a life, you learn to choose your trust. No one can live it for you, no one can feel your scars, But you can turn that pressure into constellations, stars. Stand tall—soft power, sharp vision, Make peace with boundaries, make war on permission. Love deep. Live loud. Hold the line. Be a woman—by design, not by time. [Breakdown | the 7 truths, counted like drum hits] One: People will project onto you—so define yourself first. Two: Your “no” will offend the entitled—say it anyway. Three: Being desired isn’t being valued—choose who earns access. Four: You can be compassionate without self-erasure—care with limits. Five: Comparison is a thief with lipstick—compete with your past self. Six: Money is freedom in concrete form—learn it, grow it, protect it. Seven: Your voice is a weapon and a balm—use it even when it shakes. [Verse 3 | rising, cinematic] Truth is: you will outgrow rooms that once felt like home, And they’ll call it “arrogance” when you stop living prone. You’ll grieve old versions of you like a quiet death, Then breathe new air like you invented breath. You’ll learn that love without respect is hunger dressed as fate, And peace is a pattern you practice, not something you wait. So you choose your circle like you choose your diet— What you let in becomes your mind’s private climate. [Bridge | big lift, raw and true] And if you crack—good. That’s proof you were carrying more than you should. Put it down. Not forever— just long enough to remember you are not a machine. Rest is not weakness. Softness is not surrender. You can be tender and still be dangerous. You can forgive and still walk away. You can love people… and love yourself more. [Final Chorus | full choir, final stand] Seven hard truths like diamonds in the dust— If you want a life, you learn to choose your trust. No one can live it for you, no one can feel your scars, But you can turn that pressure into constellations, stars. Stand tall—soft power, sharp vision, Make peace with boundaries, make war on permission. Love deep. Live loud. Hold the line. Be a woman—by design, not by time. [Outro | spoken, quiet power] Not a label. Not a performance. A life—authored. Seven truths. One heart. Make it yours.