a half-hour marks its entrance as Missy concentrates on honing her cat-eye, painting her lips with stoplight-red paste

strapping on her five-inch heels, she turns New York’s streets into runways

But people mock, “who are you trying to impress?”

the girl in the mirror.

drawing one last deep breath, Missy swallows her fear and rises onto the podium before hundreds, colored index cards in hand

she launches into a speech about the oppression of those with the wrong chromosomes

But people mock, “god, shut up. feminazi alert!”

kudos for proving the point.

ugg boots cushioning her feet, she approaches the counter to soothe numb fingers on a pumpkin spice latte

Missy snaps a selfie with the drink, including all the right hashtags

But people mock, “basic bit—”

#Didn’tAskForYourOpinion

her thumbs jab the buttons of the video game controller, but the chiptune arpeggios in a downward spiral as the RETRY option pops up

her eyebrows knit in frustration. she’s determined to beat the game’s all-time high score

But people mock, “girls suck at video games.”

little do they know Missy set that record score.

but I tell you

Wing that eyeliner until it can fly. Set records as high as the sky.

#DoYou and earn that standing ovation.

and when they mock you, Missy

spit in their eye & do it all over again