The Colors I Learned to Wear

‎All my life, I felt like I was living inside a coat someone else chose for me—too tight, too quiet, too grey. I carried colors inside me, but I hid them, afraid the world wasn’t ready. Every morning, I would pull on the same muted shades, blend into the background, and pray that no one noticed the flickers of color struggling to break free within me.
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‎School was the hardest. I learned early that difference could be dangerous. Whispers, sideways glances, and the occasional cruel joke taught me that showing who I truly was might cost me friends—or worse, safety. So, I stayed quiet. I smiled, nodded, and dressed in grey, letting my authentic self shrink into shadows.
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‎But shadows cannot hold color forever.
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‎The first spark came from a book I stumbled upon in the library, hidden on a bottom shelf. It told stories of people who dared to shine, who embraced themselves fully despite fear and doubt. I read late into the night, hearts pounding with recognition. These weren’t just characters on a page—they were mirrors, reflecting pieces of me I had buried so deeply.
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‎It began small. A colorful scarf peeking from beneath my grey jacket, a bright bracelet I wore when no one was looking. Each tiny rebellion against the greyness felt like breathing after years underwater. I started talking to people online who understood, who celebrated differences instead of fearing them. I learned words I had never dared to speak aloud: I am me.
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‎The next step was terrifying. I remember the first day I walked into school wearing a shirt that wasn’t grey. A deep, bold blue. My heart raced, every step heavy with anxiety. But something miraculous happened. No one laughed. No one shouted. Some noticed, some didn’t—but in that moment, I realized I didn’t need anyone’s approval to exist fully.
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‎From that day, color crept into everything. Reds, greens, purples, yellows—each shade became a declaration. Every morning, choosing what to wear was no longer about blending in; it was about showing the world pieces of myself I had once hidden. I discovered that strength doesn’t come from perfection or silence—it comes from courage, from refusing to fade.
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‎I met others along the way. Friends whose stories were different but familiar, whose scars were deep but healing. We celebrated each victory, supported each fall, and, together, painted a world far brighter than the one we had been given. Pride wasn’t just a flag we waved—it was a promise to ourselves: We belong. We are enough.
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‎Looking back, I see how much fear once controlled me. Yet even in those darkest days, the colors inside me never vanished. They waited, patient and persistent, until I was ready to claim them. And now, standing here, wrapped in a rainbow coat of my own choosing, I understand that authenticity isn’t a gift; it’s a right.
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‎So, to anyone reading this who still hides their true self, I want you to know: the world needs your colors. Wear them boldly, wear them proudly, wear them without apology. Because every shade you show is a spark that lights the way for someone else to shine too.
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‎We are all masterpieces in progress, and the world is a canvas. Don’t be afraid to paint it with your colors.

Thanks a lot.‎
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