purple is a metaphor

I distinctly remember having a conversation with Kelly Marhaver in high school about how much I hated the color purple. Like, I really hated it. I don't remember why, at all, but I remember that I was adamant that I would never wear or own anything that was even in the purple family. I was morally opposed and no amount of convincing from my ever-fashionable bff was going to convince me I was wrong. Lavender? Ew. Grape? Absolute detestation. Eggplant? Rage blackout. Yes, at a color. I always have been a very passionate person.

I was cleaning my room today because at present I feel confident that there are more clothing items on my floor than there are in my closet, and when it gets to this point even I can't handle it anymore. So I'm hanging up clothes, sorting through a million piles, trying to decide if I can get away with not doing laundry for one more day, minding my own business, and I began to notice a little trend. A recurring theme, if you will.

I own an obscene amount of purple.

I started thinking about it... and I bet I wear purple at least three times a week. At least. And I love it. It's not a reluctant like, a maybe-every-now-and-then-I'll-wear-purple-undies like, but more like if-something-is-purple-I'll-have-to-think-really-hard-about-buying-it-even-if-it's-not-even-that-cute like. I even have purple pants. I currently spend the majority of my adult life wearing the one color I swore I would forever loathe.

I don't know when or why this happened to me. I certainly didn't ask for it or seek it out or force it. I don't remember ever making a conscious decision to not hate purple. One day I just looked around [that day was today, if you're confused] and purple was all up on my sheets and my fingernails and littered in piles of clothing on my floor and occasionally it's even the color of my eyeliner and I don't hate it. Not even a little.

This is not the first time in my life I have decided something, sworn to forever uphold it as truth, and then been proven radically wrong; to the point that a few of my favorite friendships exist majorly in spite of my first impressions of said friends. Sometimes there is a big picture I can't see and I need to be ok with every now and then recognizing that I don't always know best. In fact, I think I take comfort in the fact that even when I've got a baditude, even when I stomp my foot and swear I'll never change, somehow, purple makes its way into my heart, life, and wardrobe anyway. It was natural and organic and spontaneous in a way that most things aren't and I just think that's great.

Fact is, purple is a good color for me. And if I was in charge, there's a good chance I'd have missed out on that. My eyes would still be lined with boring black every day and then how would the green pop? My nails would be painted with OPI Dutch Tulips until the end of time. My shirts would be black and boring and my sheets would be off-white and lame. I shudder to think of it.

I can be short-sighted, narrow-minded, stubborn and a little bit silly.
But when something's right, it's right, and even my silly humanity can't stand in its way.

What a relief.