“Joy Is a Rebellion in Lipstick”
Because they never expected us to laugh this loud while tearing it all down
Subtitle: Because they never expected us to laugh this loud while tearing it all down
They wanted us
tired,
terrified,
too busy surviving
to dance.
But we put on music
anyway.
Loud.
Messy.
Holy.
Joy, here,
is not an escape—
it’s strategy.
It is stolen time
on stolen land,
turned into a feast
of sound and color.
It is girls in thrift-store gowns
spinning in protest.
It is queer love
unashamed on sidewalks.
It is disabled bodies
moving with pride,
not apology.
They told us
freedom came
only after
the work was done.
But what if joy
is the work?
What if laughter
is resistance?
What if smiling in a world
that wants you silenced
is the most defiant thing
you could ever do?
We hold each other’s hands
at rallies
and also in the grocery aisle.
We send memes
and bail money.
We light candles
and inboxes.
We know
it’s all part of the movement.
This joy is not performative.
It’s prophetic.
It does not ask permission.
It blooms
in spite of.
And it’s ours.
Every sparkle,
every shout,
every slice of cake
eaten with unrepentant glee.
They gave us cages.
We built dance floors.
About the Creator
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