Cotton patchwork into a dupatta
“Pink is not my colour.” This was my inner voice! Then I self-checked. Look again, my heart. What do you resist here?
The expectation of strength growing up as a woman in India has toughened me up brutally. I resist gentleness sometimes. Pink is associated with “girl”. It is associated with “soft”. I have resisted both titles all my life.
Not anymore my heart. Settle my heart. Pink does not determine the gentleness of my heart. I determine my gentleness. I determine my strength. Pink does not make me appear soft. I am soft. And I am gentle. And I am strong.
I accept pink now. It reminds me of the time I saw cherry blossoms blooming in Nagaland. I was so happy when I saw them in full blossom everywhere. It is the colour nature fills up the earth with during certain parts of the year, how can I deny it? How can I not love it? This pink exists in nature! It survives in nature! It is gently strong. It is assertive. It is understanding.
Pink is not gender. Pink tells us some people stereotype gender. Drop stereotypes. Accept pink.