Chapter 115 : Hate pink era?

There was a time when pink felt like a forced identity, something the world expected me to love simply because I was a girl. It was everywhere, from the clothes gifted to me as a child to the stationary sets labeled "for girls." It felt limiting, as if I was being boxed into an idea of femininity. Pink felt powerless, fragile and limited. So, I resisted. I distanced myself from pink, almost as if rejecting it would prove that I was more than just a stereotype. Before, I used to love Barbie dolls and during this 'pink hate era' I acted like I hated it. I simply didn't want it to define who I was-- Fragile, weak and trapped plastic. 

But then, something changed. Maybe it was growing up, maybe it was realizing that strength and softness can coexist. One day, I saw pink not as a label but as a color, just like any other, but with a charm of its own. It was warm, nostalgic, and full of quiet confidence. The same color I once dismissed became the shade of my favorite sunsets, my coquette dresses, and even my most comforting memories.

Maturity, I realized, isn’t just about outgrowing rebellion, it’s about embracing what you once resisted and seeing beauty in things without the weight of old judgments. So, no, I don’t hate pink anymore. In fact, I might just love it.