Perfectly Pink

I’ve always had a tumultuous relationship with the color pink, I’ve gone from loving to hating to reconciling with it, no other color has truly touched and affected my life the way pink has.


by Megan Turley, Facebook Editor

When I was a kid, pink was my enemy. It signified my one true flaw: being born a girl. Since I had the unfortunate fate of being a girl, I was viewed by everybody around me as naturally kinder, weaker, less intelligent, and overall inferior to my male counterparts. And pink represented all of those things to me. 


I didn’t always hate pink– of course as a little girl in modern America, I had a brief period where most of my closet was made up of it, and truthfully I still admired the pretty girls in pink dresses as I grew older. But it felt shameful to me to even think of liking the color when it brought so much strife in my life. 


All of the antagonists in the movies I watched growing up were obsessed with pink (take Regina George or Karen Smith from Mean Girls), and I had absolutely no wish to be like them. I wanted to be like the cool tomboy protagonists who were strong and cool-headed. I wanted to be one of the girls who accomplished things and was smart, a girl who truly got things done. 


By the time I hit middle school, I rejected the color completely. I threw away all of my pink clothes, jewelry and shoes. I would tell people that I thought pink was hideous, and I would even go so far as to judge those that liked it as ditzy and stereotypical. 


But, once I hit high school, something in me seemed to change. 


I felt myself start to warm up to pink again. 


Where I used to feel distaste and embarrassment towards the color, I suddenly felt fondness and even a little bit of joy at seeing it. I started (secretly) saving pink outfits and makeup looks on Pinterest, even sneaking off into the clothes section to admire the pink skirts and dresses when I went shopping with my mom. 

I gradually came to the conclusion that there was nothing wrong with pink, after all, it’s just a color. Pink had never called me names or told me I wasn’t good enough. Pink didn’t have any free will or emotion to do so! 


Pink was the color of Barbie, who was a doctor, and n equestrian, and an astronaut. Pink was the color the cool female rappers in Hollywood that made millions. Pink was the color of Blossom from Powerpuff Girls, who was strong and tough and smart! 


Pink had never hurt my feelings. If anything, it had comforted me when I felt sad by being the color of my favorite dress or my pretty accessories. Pink had connected me to other girls my age and had given us a mutual interest. 


Pink was a color that represented beauty, and femininity, and the persistence of girls. Pink was beautiful.