Updated: Jan. 25, 2017
Originally Published: Jan. 25, 2017
Let’s delve into the significance of the color pink. During my childhood, I took pride in my disdain for this hue, believing it tethered me to a stereotype I refused to conform to as a girl. My passion for sports led me to embrace a more gender-neutral identity, where I publicly rejected anything related to pink. However, as I matured, I discovered that I could embody both femininity and athleticism. Despite this realization, a lingering apprehension remains whenever I consider purchasing something pink, as if I might inadvertently reinforce outdated gender norms. Yet, I now understand that my identity transcends the colors I wear or the activities I pursue; they merely offer a glimpse into the multifaceted individual I am learning to embrace.
Yesterday marked the Women’s March on Washington, an event I longed to attend. The thought of joining friends in the nation’s capital, passionately advocating for our beliefs and making history, was incredibly enticing. However, the reality of my anxiety made participation unfeasible.
Since returning to academia, I’ve experienced a resurgence of energy and enthusiasm that I thought I had lost. Waking up each day, eager to uncover what awaits, contrasts sharply with my previous outlook when a simple stomach bug would have rendered me content to remain in bed. Now, I find myself yearning to engage with the world rather than retreating. While I recognize the significance of the march, my healing journey is still in its infancy, which is why I chose to stay home.
I grappled with feelings of guilt about missing out on this historic opportunity. As a two-time survivor of sexual assault, the rhetoric surrounding women from political figures, particularly Donald Trump, is deeply troubling. The thought of my friends facing increased hostility in the coming years weighs heavily on my heart. I initially interpreted my decision to abstain from the march as an act of privilege or selfishness.
However, I came to realize that self-compassion and an understanding of personal limitations are not selfish. For instance, if I had a broken leg, I wouldn’t feel guilty about missing the event. Acknowledging my mental health condition allowed me to shift my perspective; instead of fixating on what I was missing, I sought alternative ways to participate.
Thus, I found myself in the heart of my city, bright pink lipstick adorning my lips, as I listened to Ukelele Explosion perform songs of solidarity amidst hundreds of other protests occurring nationwide. From my vantage point, I witnessed a sea of individuals proudly wearing their pink hats, all united in their First Amendment rights.
In that moment, it became clear why the march held such significance. People from diverse backgrounds coming together for a common cause creates something extraordinary. The collective hope and positivity radiated by this gathering was almost palpable, transcending individual identities.
Thank you, President Trump, for inadvertently motivating us to unite. Your actions have transformed everyday individuals into activists and fostered connections among strangers. Most importantly, you have redefined my perspective on the color pink. No longer a symbol of outdated stereotypes, it now represents strength, hope, and unity—qualities that no legislation can diminish.
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Summary:
This article reflects on the author’s personal experiences with anxiety, particularly in relation to attending the Women’s March on Washington. It emphasizes the importance of self-compassion and recognizing personal limits while still finding ways to show support for significant causes. The narrative explores the evolution of the author’s relationship with the color pink and highlights the unifying power of collective action, even from afar.
Keyphrase: Anxiety and Women’s March Participation
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