The colors of my life, well…
I’ve never been much of a girly girl. No matter how hard anyone ever tried to make me one.
I’ve always hated the color pink.
Except for a brief stint when I was 11 and I declared that purple was my favorite color. My favorite color has always been red.
Several weeks ago I had a photo shoot. The magazine editor told me to bring clothes that spoke to my personality.
So, I called several of my friends and I asked them what color they thought of when they thought of me.
Since most of my friends are guys, you can imagine that they didn’t really have much to say. And a few of them thought I had literally lost my mind for even bothering to ask them.
Once I finally got them to answer this very simple question, the main consensus seemed to be red and that suited me right down to the ground.
I did start to wonder why red was the main theme that came from my friends. But I didn’t want to push any psycho analyzing on them because as I have previously stated, they are all guys and were reluctant to answer the question in the first place.
I started researching the meaning of the color red. From what I can find, most people associate the color with both love and anger or aggression.
That’s very interesting to me, because they seem to be the opposite of each other.
Red is also associated with intensity, it stimulates metabolism and increases heart rate.
Of course at first I started wondering what is wrong with me. What does it say about me that this volatile color is the color I am most drawn to on a consistent basis?
I was falling down a self analyzing rabbit hole from which there was going to be no return.
It’s taken me a long time, but I have had to learn to reign myself in when I start to do this.
Then it hit me.
I am a passionate person and I think most people would say that I am fairly intense.
I throw myself into everything that I do with such fervor that it takes over all aspects of my existence.
My first priority in my life is my children. As a mom, I am passionate about making sure my children always know that they are loved and that they know that they make my life more beautiful everyday just because they are in it. And when someone does something to disparage my parenting or hurt my children in anyway, all I see is red.
As a friend or family member, I am passionate about guarding my relationships. I don’t have a lot of close friends and those that I do have, I consider family and there is nothing that I wouldn’t do for each and every one of them.
As a fighter, I associate red with my blood that I regularly see pouring out of my own wounds and those of my fellow competitors.
I am usually all sorts of shades of black and blue as well, bruises that I earn and love and am quite proud of, but the red that stains my clothes is just so vibrant as a symbol of how much of myself I pour into what I love.
I am also very passionate about my goals. I am probably the most stubborn human on planet earth and when I set my mind to doing something, I will do it.
I am not patient.
I don’t understand when my body doesn’t cooperate with my strong will.
I hate that my knee is still in a brace from my recent surgery and I feel like I should be 100% now less than a month post surgery and I’m quite vocal about it.
Some people don’t understand me. They say I am wrapped up in things that keep me from having a future because they don’t understand that my future is not what they think it should be.
Sometimes I get so angry because I don’t want to live in the box that they think I should fit in.
And I don’t have to and I never asked for their opinion.
I feel it down deep in my gut and then it feels red. It drives me to my goals.
Then there are the people in my life that do understand me. And even when I am difficult and stubborn and stupid they love me anyway. They stand by me and believe in me.
And I feel that down deep in my soul and that feels red too. It’s a different kind of red, a warm and comforting strong red even more intense than the angry fire red of misunderstanding and that pushes me even harder toward my goals.
That which does not kill me, better start running,