Pink

 I remember when I abhorred the color pink. I remember the barbie dolls and their pink lips, pink dresses, pink shoes. The drawings of pink princesses on girl-themed bags. Pink hair accessories that were stored on a pink nightstand. 

The color pink plagued my life for years; and yet, never had I questioned its presence during those young years. 

I specifically recall one time when I received a glittery hot pink makeup case as a birthday present. I was around 11 years old at the time and had never shown any interest in makeup whatsoever. Although the presence of pink always felt threatening before, when I laid my eyes on the makeup case it ceased to be horrendous. Pink was from thereafter just a color. A color that I understood to be misused and abused. 

Adults use the color pink with a weak purpose. To instill femininity in us girls. But what they fail to realize is that this association of color to a specific gender, chain reacts into unconscious hate for femininity, societal roles, and gender expectations. When I was a kid, I did not want to be limited to a color. I did not want to be given pink makeup cases, pink hair accessories, and pink clothes. Because pink transcended color. It reached a deeper part of my mind and delivered a message-- one which as I made clear, was not very fond of. 

The worst part of this experience of mine was that, if memory doesn't fail me, the person who gifted me the pink case was a man. This ignoramus had come out of the dumb depths of stupidity and had gifted me something related to the simple fact of me being born female. This is why my hate for the color somewhat softened after the incident. I was to this man a stranger: he did not know me like I thought he did. Pink's offenses were not personal. There was no need to be angry about something out of my control. Needless to say, I was more disappointed than furious. 

However, as I grew I came to the conclusion my prolonged hate towards pink as a result of the patriarchy. It was common for girls to detest the color pink. So instead of disregarding it, I embraced it. Not as a symbol, but as a color. I had finally looked at pink as a color. I was no longer reluctant to embrace pink, to dress pink, to paint my nails pink, to decorate with pink. Playing with barbie dolls were long removed from my list of current activities, but I still came to piece with barbie's glittery fashion preferences. 

I had accepted pink into my life, and unbeknownst to me, accepted womanhood in the way as well.