I had this aversion towards the colour Pink since I was a little boy. At that point I accepted it as a fact. I made it quite clear to my family that I don’t want anything that is remotely close to this colour or any shade of it. Keeping in mind the side of the bed we used to sleep on, the room that my sister and I shared was carefully painted half-blue-half-pink .
I refused to carry a pink bag, tiffin box, water bottle or even a pencil box to school. So much so that I fought with everyone when they were buying a pink tee shirt for me. My mother tried to talk sense into me that pink would really bring out my colour. She used to give me examples of the men in our family who absolutely rocked pink. But no, I couldn’t. I just couldn’t.
Over the years I have told everyone that this is the one colour I hate and it has nothing to do with sexism. I have been going over this since a while now. Though I still don’t have a definite answer to what made me hate this beautiful colour, I now have a few possible reasons. I call it beautiful for the fact that I realise that I have always liked the colour; I had nothing against it. The problem was owning and carrying an object, which had this colour on it.
Even though I claimed that it had nothing to do with sexism, in retrospect, it seems quite obvious to me now that it has always been about that. The society perceives this colour a certain way and I didn’t want to fuel that thought process. It wasn’t easy for me to come to terms with the fact that I too fell victim to this vicious mentality without even realising it. You have to conform to the general opinion of what belongs where lest you want to be mocked at.
Now that I have broken a lot of shackles, this one seems too important. I was a little effeminate since my school days, which gave the power to numerous merciless bullies to mock me. Obviously I was far away from all that toxic masculinity. This now feels like an unconscious decision I made to avoid the constant bullying that I had to go through. How could I be seen carrying something pink and give others a chance to mock me even further than what is anyway being thrown at me constantly?
To hell with all of that bullshit! I am going to start experimenting with the colour pink and all the beautiful shades it comes with. Maybe I’ll start with buying a pink tee shirt. Oh! I can’t wait to see the look on my mother’s face.
Maybe she’ll be delighted or perhaps now that things are way too different, she might even be shocked. Why now? What does he want to prove? Now that, time will tell. But for now, let’s start with accepting Pink. I hope all other boys who are subjected to this spiteful thinking, come around sooner or later and accept the wonders that this world offers. It might be as small as choosing a colour but that is where it all starts.
Let’s raise a toast to the colour Pink!
Also published on Medium.