I wonder what they've told them, I wonder what they think they know, What twisted truths they've been handed From many years ago. I see them in the places That once felt safe to me, And wonder if they're looking at The woman you say they see. There was a time I'd chase the story, Try to make them understand, Gather every fact and memory, Hold the evidence in my hands. But I won't spend another year Defending what I know— I cannot make somebody see What they don't want to know. You got the story of me wrong, But you don't get to write the rest. You can tell the version that you need, You can leave out all my best. You can turn my love to something else, You can put my heart on trial, But you cannot change the woman Who was standing there all the while. I know the love that I gave freely. I know the things I'd change. I know I wasn't perfect, But I know I don't deserve this name. So you can tell your story— I don't have to make it mine. You got the story of me wrong, But the rest of it is mine. It's harder when the whispers Live so close to where I pray, When people I have come to love May hear the lies they say. I want to stand and tell them, "There's another side to what you heard." I want to answer every accusation, Every twisted word. But those who really know me Have watched the way I live, They've seen the way I love, They know the heart I give. And I don't need a courtroom For the truth to still be true— Someone else's version of me Doesn't tell me what to do. I know the love that I gave freely. I know the things I'd change. I know I wasn't perfect, But I know I don't deserve this name. So you can tell your story— I don't have to make it mine. You got the story of me wrong, But the rest of it is mine. God knows every conversation, Every motive, every tear, Every time I tried too hard To make a place for all of us here. He knows where I fell short He knows where I was kind. He knows every imperfection And every good intention of mine. I don't need to be remembered As the hero of their side. I just need the strength to live Without begging to be tried. Let the people who don't know me Think whatever they decide. The people walking close beside me Know the life I've actually lived. So I won't walk into the chapel Wondering who believes what's been said. I won't let imagined conversations Keep repeating in my head. I'll look into the faces Of the people who are there, And give them every reason To know me by the life I share. And if someday the truth comes forward, I won't need to say, "I told you so." And if it never does, I'll still be fine— There are things that I will know. I loved more than was required. I stayed longer than was wise. I tried harder than I needed to For a place I couldn't buy. And now I'll spend the years before me With the ones who choose me too. I don't have to clear my name To build a life that's good and true. You got the story of me wrong, But you don't get to write the rest. You can keep the character you created— I don't have to wear that dress. I won't chase down every whisper. I won't plead my case again. I won't hand another precious year To people who won't let me in. I know the woman that I was. I know the woman I became. And someone else's misunderstanding Cannot take away my name. So tell whatever story You believe you need to tell. I'll be busy living my life— And I'll live it very well. Maybe someday you'll remember More than anger let you see. Maybe someday you'll recognize The woman who was really me. And maybe not. I'm learning I can finally let that be. Because God knows my whole story. The people who love me know my heart. And I don't need your permission For the next chapter to start. You got the story of the past 17 years wrong. But you don't get to write the rest.
