The Hues I Hold

For the longest time, my world was grey.

I felt like I had seen color once before, when I was young, when I knew self love.

That faded as the years grew on. I started seeing myself as someone else, but everyone around me did not see me.

Each person felt they had something to add on to me. To control how I looked and felt. To place colors on me that weren’t mine.

My voice wasn’t my own, it wasn’t deep with soft undertones. My hair wasn’t my own, it was for someone else to tell me how to look. My body wasn’t my own, I wasn’t allowed to look how I wanted to.

How I needed to.

For the longest time, my world was grey.

I stopped seeing colors. I could only see greys. I hated everything about me. I was angry all the time.

A color I thought was red, but it was truly black. An all consuming void that held nothing. Nothing, but me and my rage.

One day, I found myself.

One day, I was heard.

One day, I woke up blue.

The next day, I felt passion. Red was added to my blue. I now had purple too.

I began to transition, from grey to new hues.

For the longest time, my world was grey.

Finally, I have color too.