Pretty and Quiet

Track 4 of Midnight Confessions

[ Lyrics ]

They liked me better when I didn’t speak.

Yeah, I was good… too good.

Sat through the comment that slithered like smoke,
bit my tongue so hard I could taste the broke.
Smiled through the pitch where they called me ‘sweet’
while stealing my hook and calling it ‘team.’
I nodded in corners, stayed small, stayed neat,
let ‘graceful’ mean silence when I needed to breathe.
My voice? A problem. My pain? A phase.
I learned to apologize for my own damn face.

Now I feel it rise — low like thunder in velvet gloves,
no more swallowing words like they’re medicine or drugs.
I was praised for the quiet, but punished for the sound —
well, the quiet girl’s speaking… and she’s unbound.

They liked me better pretty and quiet,
dressed in compliance, never starting fights.
But the peace was pretend and the smile had a cost —
I sold my truth just to be well-loved.
I was good… 
Too good… 
But good don’t mean I understood.

Back then, my power had a softer name:
‘professional,’ ‘easy,’ never ‘the same’
as the boys who’d rage and still land the deal.
I watched my worth shrink to how I’d conceal.
Took the high road like it was my home,
but the high road’s lonely when you walk it alone.
Now I write songs like receipts in the light —
line by line, bringing due dates to right.

No more gold stars for absorbing the heat.
No more ‘bless your heart’ in a boardroom meeting.
I was good at the game, but the game wasn’t fair —
well, the quiet girl’s done playing there.

They liked me better pretty and quiet,
dressed in compliance, never starting fights.
But the peace was pretend and the smile had a cost —
I sold my truth just to be well-loved.
I was good… 
Too good… 
But good don’t mean I understood.

Mama said, ‘Speak up, they’ll respect you.’
I said, ‘No, they’ll like me — and that’s not the truth.’
Now the fear’s not in anger, it’s in being seen:
me — not the mask, not the past, not the dream.

They liked me better pretty and quiet,
but I’m tired of trading my voice for a like.
The peace was pretend and the cost was my name —
I won’t be erased just to play the nice game.
I was good… 
Too good… 
But now I know what I’m worth — and it’s more

I was good… 
Too good… 
But I’m not keeping score anymore.

No… I’m not quiet.

Pretty… and finally loud.
Pretty and Quiet | Jasmine Glass | Allyson, Inc.