Too Picky

[ Lyrics ]

I wanted lace, they said I was spoiled.

Age eight, fingers on the mannequin’s sleeve,
pointing at the dress with roses stitched in gold weave.
Mom said, ‘That’s too fancy — save it for queens.’
I just wanted to feel like someone seen.
Not rich, not vain — just soft cotton ruffles,
something that didn’t come from the ‘almost’ shelves.
But I learned to shrink in the clearance light,
quiet my spark, dim what felt right.

They called me picky like it was a crime,
like wanting pretty things meant losing mine.
But deep down, even then, I knew the score —
it wasn't greed, it was my soul knocking at the door.

I wanted lace, they said I was spoiled.
I wanted light, they told me to be quiet.
I wasn't too much — I was too true,
wanted love to feel like something new.
I wasn't too picky — I was too wise,
just the first in line to realize
that softness ain't weak, and dreams ain't cheap —
I just knew my worth before they let me keep.

Years later, same look in a lover’s face —
‘You want too much,’ he said with a condescending grace.
Like candles on a Tuesday were a reckless cost,
or remembering my name spelled right was lost.
Said I deserved less, like that was care,
but I just wanted what the dress taught me was there.

Now I see the thread from then to today —
every 'you're too much' was a redirect, a delay.
They didn't break me — they drew the map,
taught me the weight of not looking back.

I wanted lace, they said I was spoiled.
I wanted light, they told me to be quiet.
I wasn't too much — I was too real,
wanted love to show how I feel.
I wasn't too picky — just knew the cost,
paid in silence, love half-lost.
But soft things last, and strong things shine —
I kept the dress in my mind all this time.

That little girl with her nose to the glass —
she wasn’t greedy, she was seeing the past
of who she’d become, already whole,
dressed in grace, not just a role.
She wanted lace… not because it cost more,
but ‘cause she deserved the door
that opened wide, not cracked a slit —
a life that said, ‘You’re worth the fit.’

I wanted lace, but they called it spoiled.
I wanted light, but they called it noise.
Now I know — I was never wrong,
just the first to sing this song.
I wasn’t too picky — I was too brave,
wanting love to look like lace.
And every ‘no’ they ever gave?
Just proof I stayed.

I wanted lace... 
And now I wear it.