I’m 4000 words of written upchuck into an 1000-word personal essay. It shouldn’t be the case, but writing about oneself is sometimes the hardest. The self-reflection, the emotional turmoil, the discouraging thoughts like “why no, I haven’t quite gotten around to achieving world peace yet, but I have just rewatched the Lizzie Bennet Diaries for the fourth time…” are less than motivational.
Honestly, I seem to be writing in circles, and right now I’d like to put something down that isn’t expected to sum up my entire past and determine my near future. And so, I’m answering this carefree writing prompt:
“What is your favourite colour and what associations do you have with it? How does it make you feel?”
My favourite colour is undoubtedly pink, which was decided pre-Meg consciousness when I left the hospital as a wee babe wrapped in a pink hospital blanket. Ry can attest to this fact. Or maybe not…she wasn’t even two at the time.
This was further reinforced by the fact that my room was painted two shades of pink with added bits of green for my first birthday.
I remember being a flower girl in my aunt’s wedding, and having to wear a green dress while Ry twirled around in a gorgeous, light pink version. I was four and chock-full of envy.
I can’t explain why, but pink has always brought me a simultaneous wave of peace and brightness. Unless it’s fluorescent pink, of course, which should be reserved for highlighters and 80’s-themed affairs.
But when I was around eleven, something strange happened. I started asserting that I hated pink, and that green was my favourite colour. And while I’ve always liked green because of how well it pairs with pink, it certainly wasn’t or isn’t my favourite colour.
So why the sudden change? Well, when I was younger, my friends used to tease me relentlessly for being such a “girly girl” all the damn time. Frankly, I got sick of it, and being my brilliantly naive self, I figured my favourite colour had a great deal to do with my character, ability, and impression. So, I lied. Stupid, I know (oh the wonders of hindsight…).
It was three years later when I realized just how stupid I was being. Liking pink certainly didn’t determine who I was, or limit my abilities in any way. In fact, pretending that I didn’t like it was probably a cause of any inhibitions I had at the time. It took a while, but I came to my senses and went back to my pink-adoring, girly self.
Today, I love pink. I love how easily it it complements other colours, even shades of itself. I love how it can stand alone and represent a message as powerful and paramount as breast cancer awareness. And I especially love the way it brings about feelings of nostalgia, like the joy of when my sister and I used to play with our pink toy salon, or run around in my perfectly pink room.
To make this post fit in slightly better with the theme of our blog, here’s my childhood bedroom wall pattern in nail art form:
- Essie’s east hampton cottage (088), Essie’s angora cardi (336), Essie’s turquoise and caicos (752)
- Base coat
- Base colour and more base colour (east hampton cottage)
- Sponge + angora cardi
- Sponge + turquoise and caicos
- Top coat
There you have it: a nail design inspired by a rather rambly answer to a fairly simple question. Speaking of which, what’s your favourite colour? Let us know!
Thanks for reading! Now back to the personal essay, I guess…
’til next time,