Learning to Love Pink Again 

As a kid, I was very aware of the gender divide. However, I never understood it. Why was there such a thing as gendered toys? Why was pink for girls and blue for boys? 

In kindergarten, our class had a toy kitchen set and a toy tool bench. I went over to the tool bench and one of the boys told me it was only for boys and to go to the kitchen. 

At a birthday party in the third grade, we had the option of choosing a toy after we won a game. I was one of the first to win, meaning I had a wide variety of toys to choose from. I chose the remote-control car. My friend’s mom said that the toy was meant for the boys.  

In gym class in grade five, the boys would joke about how the girls couldn’t run. I remember playing soccer baseball in class, our teacher splitting the class into girls versus boys. When the girls were set to kick, the boys would move really close because of course a girl wouldn’t be able to kick the ball very far.  

I hated all of this. Being a girl meant being weak and slow. We were meant to play with dolls and pretend to cook. I began pushing against these notions as I got older, falling into the label of a tomboy. I began to detest anything considered “girly” — dresses, makeup and most of all, the colour pink. 

To me, pink represented everything that I hated about being a girl.  

This hatred stuck with me for years. But, as I’ve gotten older, I’ve realized I didn’t hate the colour pink, or more feminine things. I hated how femininity is perceived by society. I was struggling with internalized misogyny, and the only way to deal with that is to understand the roots of it.  

Societal norms dictate that anything feminine is inferior. We live in a patriarchal society that pushes women down. In an article published in the Journal of Integrated Social Sciences, the author, Maria Evteeva, writes how the patriarchy uses misogyny to control women. To get over internalized misogyny, we must acknowledge it.  

Acknowledging it helped me realize most girls grew up feeling inferior because that is what we were taught. Whether it was from our parents unknowingly making a sexist comment, or our teachers requesting the “strong boys” to help move a desk, it was all around us.  

Ariana Jones is an 18-year-old woman from Ottawa, Ont. She grew up with an older brother and often participated in what may be considered as “boy activities.”  

“I remember one day I was painting a picture frame blue, and someone asked me why I wasn’t painting it pink,” says Jones. “That’s when it clicked that pink was affiliated with girls. I’ve always been one to question societal standards so a part of me was like hell no.” 

Jones grew out of this as she got older and was able to develop a sense of self outside of being her brother’s little sister. 

“I was definitely able to get over it when I was a pre-teen just because that’s when I really started becoming myself,” says Jones. “I didn’t feel the need to prove something to people anymore and I came to just love the colour for what it is — a pretty colour. Not a girl colour or anything else, just pink.” 

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve grown to love the colour pink — personally, I think light pink is the best. I don’t see it as a “girl” colour, or as a symbol of weakness. This is because I have been able to acknowledge that being feminine isn’t being weak. You can be girly and strong. Beautiful and smart.  

Some days it comes flooding back to me, but in those moments I’m able to remember it really isn’t me thinking these things. It’s just what I was taught. With time and reflection, I’m working on unlearning it.