How I Saw the Need To Add Color Back to My World
It's okay to choose what you want even if no one else likes it.
Hi there!
My parents did a good job encouraging their kids in self-expression.
My mom let us choose the material she used to make our quilts. They let us pick out our own clothes as long as they fit the budget, and they gave us the thrill of decorating our own rooms.
My first go round, I shared a room with my brother. He had no opinion, so I chose purple. Big, bright, the color of Grimace from McDonald’s, purple. My mom obliged, painting one wall the shocking color while putting complementary wallpaper on the other three walls.
My brother’s friends, and later my own, made fun of the purple room. When I was alone with my friends, I blamed it on my mom. I felt like I should be ashamed of the color I chose because everyone made fun of it.
“The soul becomes dyed with the color of its thoughts.”
- Marcus Aurelius
Walking Away From Color
A few years later, as older siblings moved away, I moved into a room of my own.
Again, I had the choice of color. This time, I chose orange. While I again voted for a bright, in-your-face shade of hunter orange, my mom talked me into a muted pastel orange instead. My dad picked up some paneling with yellow flowers that a friend was throwing out, and it made up two of the walls, with orange glowing on the other two.
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