I used to love pink until I was four, when I was confronted with the expectations that were associated with the color. I wasn’t a princess, why did every gift or item of clothing have to be girly? So I realised I had to step away from the color if I were to be treated as myself, but I was too afraid to ask, afraid to be abandoned. With an exception of a period when I was 14-15 years old when I made one last effort to try to be what was expected of me, I haven’t had any pink clothes since I was allowed to start buying my own clothes.
Now I feel confident in my skin, I have reclaimed what I had once despised as my worst enemy. I figured it was not the color that was my arch nemesis, it were the people who used it as a symbol of oppression, a method to decide on my future. I’m not taking it anymore, to police people on what to wear is like getting hostile towards people who like sugar in their coffee. You Don’t Have To Drink It. Actually you Shouldn’t drink it at all because it’s not even your fucking coffee. I feel good and empowered in pink, to me it is the symbol of growth and confidence.