Rainbow

I think there’s something quite interesting about how our relationship with colours can change over time, not necessarily because our tastes have changed, but because of what society has come to associate with them.

I’ve always loved colours. Anyone who knows me, or has paid even the slightest attention to my personal style, would probably tell you that. Look at my braids, for instance. I’m almost always drawn to bright colours. I love experimenting with different shades, mixing colours that some people might not necessarily put together, and finding joy in the little ways colour can make something ordinary feel a little more exciting. I’ve never been particularly afraid of colour. In fact, I think life is already serious enough without having to be serious about the colours we choose to wear.

And then there’s the rainbow.

I’ve always had a soft spot for anything rainbow-coloured. Rainbow accessories, rainbow prints, rainbow decorations, stationery, clothes, you name it. There’s something about seeing several colours come together so effortlessly that I find beautiful. Perhaps it’s the vibrancy, the variety or simply the fact that no single colour has to compete with another for attention. They all exist together, and somehow, it works.

But somewhere along the line, appreciating the rainbow became a little more complicated.

It’s interesting how something as ordinary and universally beautiful as a natural phenomenon can become so strongly associated with a particular movement or group that people begin to second-guess their own attraction to it. I now find myself having to pause before buying something rainbow-coloured. Not because I’ve suddenly stopped liking it, but because I sometimes wonder what someone might assume about me based on a choice as simple as buying a rainbow-coloured item.

And honestly, I find that a little exhausting.

I don’t particularly enjoy having to explain the intention behind every aesthetic choice I make. Sometimes I like something because I like it. Sometimes I buy something because I think it’s pretty. Sometimes I choose bright pink braids because I want bright pink braids. And sometimes I want all the colours of the rainbow without it having to mean anything beyond the fact that I love colours.

I understand that symbols evolve. They acquire meaning through history, movements, experiences and the people who identify with them. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that. People should be able to find representation, belonging and meaning in symbols that speak to their experiences.

But I also don’t think that should mean the rest of us have to surrender our uncomplicated appreciation of those things.

The rainbow existed long before any modern movement adopted it as a symbol. It is part of nature. It appears in the sky after rainfall, reminding us that the world can be beautiful in ways we don’t always anticipate. Its colours have inspired artists, designers, children, fashion enthusiasts and just about anyone who has ever stopped to admire one.

Surely, there should still be room for someone to love the rainbow simply because it’s beautiful?

I want to be able to walk into a shop, see a rainbow-coloured mug and buy it without having an internal debate about what it might communicate. I want to wear a rainbow-coloured shirt, decorate my space with rainbow accessories or buy something colourful for the sheer pleasure of owning it. I want to enjoy colours without feeling like I’m inadvertently making a declaration.

Perhaps what I’m really asking for is a little more freedom in how we interpret things. Not everything needs to be a statement. Not every preference needs an identity attached to it. Not every aesthetic choice needs an explanation.

And maybe that’s what I mean when I say we need to reclaim the rainbow as a normal colour combination. Not to take away what it represents to anyone, but to make room for those of us who simply love it as well.

Because I still love colours. I love seeing them in my braids, in my clothes, in my surroundings and in the little things I choose to own. I don’t intend to become less colourful just because the world has become more conscious of what certain colours might represent.

Sometimes, a rainbow is just a rainbow. Sometimes, pink is just pink. And sometimes, a girl just wants to buy a colourful bag without having an existential crisis at the checkout.

And I think we should be allowed to do that.