Notes on Healing (in Pink)

I have no idea where or when I first came across what I'll call, "the girls liking pink again" theory.

From what I understand, it suggests that a woman renews an interest in the color pink during a period of emotional healing—symbolizing emotional healing, self-acceptance, and a return to femininity after a period of hardship or self-neglect. According to Google, it's a metaphor for embracing vulnerability and self-care as a luxury rather than a weakness—an indication that she finally feels safe enough to soften and find joy in traditionally feminine things after personal growth.

Whether or not this theory holds any real weight, it felt eerily aligned with my life.

I was trying on the prettiest, pinkest sweater when I caught my reflection and realized I had been subconsciously choosing everything in pink—not just clothing. To the point where I actually had to stop myself and remember that pink doesn't fit the aesthetic I'm going for in my apartment (and I am very strict about this).

And then suddenly my bath rug was pink. Shortly after, my shower curtain. I ordered a pink shirt to go with a pair of pink pants. Instead of the peachy blush I usually gravitate toward, I found myself reaching for the pinkest one on the shelf. It was like the influence of seeing Glinda everywhere was taking over my mind.

Standing there, beaming at myself in the mirror, surrounded by all these soft little choices, I laughed.

I thought about where I am in my healing journey—how there's still so much left to do—and how comforting it was to notice this quiet theory weaving itself into my everyday life. The pink arrived without my permission. It didn't ask whether it fit my apartment palette or my carefully curated sense of self. It just kept showing up.

Around the same time, I had just started reading How to Stop Breaking Your Own Heart by Meggan Roxanne. In the introduction, she talks about how healing often arrives one ordinary day, when we least expect it. She describes realizing—while walking on an autumn day—just how peaceful her life had become without her even noticing the shift.

Healing doesn't always announce itself through breakthroughs or dramatic realizations. Sometimes it finds us quietly.

Pink or not, it was true. Over the last six to seven months, I've never felt more in tune with a sense of peace.

I owe so much of that to my two therapists, who have helped guide me through immense internal fighting. My nervous system has even tried reaching out to me in my sleep, gently reminding me that I am safe—that I'm getting there.

I carry several serious traumas, but the hardest has been losing my eye sight. Navigating that loss without my mom has been unbearably difficult. A year and a half later—seven months out from my last surgery—I still have to remind myself daily that I am safe.

It's been a year since my most invasive surgery, the one that took months to heal before I could see properly out of that eye again. And now, it feels so good to look in the mirror and see myself. To see colors. My apartment. The people I love.

It has been so, so nice to see pink.

So as Google puts it, "in essence, it's less about the color itself and more about the internal shift it represents: from bracing for impact to allowing for ease an embracing one's full, gentle self."

I realized maybe healing doesn't always arrive loudly—sometimes it just shows up in pink.

Books I've read:

• Attached: The New Science of Adult Attachment and How It Can Find—and Keep—Love by Amir Levine and Rachel S.F. Heller, 304 pages.

• Getting Past Your Break Up: How to Turn a Devastating Loss Into the Best Thing That Ever Happened to You by Susan J. Elliott, 272 pages.

• Polysecure: Attachment, Trauma and Consensual Nonmonogamy by Jessica Fern, 288 pages.

• Set Boundaries, Find Peace: A Guide to Reclaiming Yourself by Nedra Glover Tawwab, 304 pages.

• The Anxious Person's Guide to Non-Monogamy: Your Guide to Open Relationships, Polyamory and Letting Go by Lola Phoenix, 208 pages.

  
  

  Books I'm reading now:

• I Hate You, Don't Leave Me: Understanding the Borderline Personality by Jerold J. Kreisman with Hal Straus, 336 pages.

• The Four Agreements: A Practical Guide to Personal Freedom (A Toltec Wisdom Book) by Don Miguel Ruiz, 160 pages.

• The Perfectionist Guide to Losing Control: A Path to Peace and Power by Katherine Morgan Schafler, 323 pages. Click the link to read my thoughts on Schafler's book.

• How to Stop Breaking Our Own Hearts by Meggan Roxanne, 224 pages.

My book queue:

• Hood Feminism: Notes from the Women That a Movement Forgot by Mikki Kendall, 288 pages.

• Don't F*cking Panic: The Shit They Don't Tell You in Therapy about Anxiety Disorder, Panic Attacks and Depression by Kelsey Darragh, 368 pages.

• Stop Walking on Eggshells: Taking Your Life Back When Someone You Care About Has Borderline Personality Disorder by Paul T.T. Mason MS and Randi Kreger, 280 pages.

• Supporting Someone Polyamorous: FAQs About Non-Monogamy and Allyship for Family, Friends and Loved Ones by Lola Phoenix, 171 pages.

• The Art of Letting Go: How to Let Go of the Past, Look Forward to the Future, and Finally Enjoy the Emotional Freedom You Deserve! by Damon Zahariades, 194 pages.

• The Body Keeps the Score: Brain, Mind, and Body in the Healing of Trauma by Bessel van del Kolk M.D., 464 pages.

• The Cure for Emotional Unavailability: Discover the Source of Emotional Unavailability Heal and Have Positive, Successful Relationships by Stella Smith, 146 pages.

• Detached: How to Let Go, Heal, and Become Irresistible by Sabrina Alexis Bendory, 328 pages.

Citations:

Meggan Roxanne, How to Stop Breaking Your Own Heart: Stop People-Pleasing, Set Boundaries, and Heal from Self-Sabotage. (Hay House, 2024).