All good wishes to those who like pink
but who on earth thinks that we all do?
Since when did pink become the definition of woman? The only definition?
I am a guardian, a dragon who will breathe fire over someone who threatens my children without a blink of hesitation. Give me the colours of flame.
I am the rememberer of stories and the keeper of traditions, the one who reminds of manners and encourages flexible understanding, who tells tales and keeps secrets. Give me the colours of the deep and changing ocean.
I am the nurturer who grows people from seeds to tall trees. Give me the colours of the wide earth, of summer bark and autumn bark, of grains and dust.
I am the restful place, a circle of arms where small people come to sit and talk in safety and quiet. Give me the colours of fresh leaves and forests.
I am the snip at the heels, the voice of disapproval when things have gone a little too wrong, the marker of the line that says "far enough". Give me the colours of frost on the windows and steel in the rain, with the gleam of the edge of a knife.
Give me as many colours as you can, because I am all of these things. Not just the one someone chose to paint all women, all ages, everywhere.