Don't Mess With Me is not just a sculpture. It’s a woman who has stopped apologizing.
She’s seated solidly on her stool—at the gate of her life, her home, her story. She’s the archetype of the woman who once smiled to please, softened to soothe, shrank to fit. But not anymore.

Her body is round, full, grounded — a form that draws strength from its own weight. Her crossed arms weave like quiet armor. Her face says: “I’ve had enough.” She protects. She commands space. And no, she doesn’t care what you think.

The rough surface is intentional — she’s textured, marked by life, and stronger because of it. This sculpture is not about elegance. It’s about power that doesn’t ask for permission.

She doesn’t perform femininity. She defines it.

Her name says it all: Don't Mess With Me.