The story behind why it's not just a preference, but I LIKE it.
Given our family history's .. .you'll get it. I've posted it on this blog before, so those who are reading this, can just read on by ...those who haven't feel free to read and get to know why I prefer pink. Adore pink, choose pink.
"Grandma brought presents!"
Grandma ... should bring warm fuzzie memories, but mine doesn't. She was critical ..and judgmental. She thought she was kind. I guess. She had this over powering way of pretending to be nice. An extremely condenscending way about her. She had 10 grandchildren. There isn't one of us that has a happy memory about her, except her pretty paintings, she was a great artist.
I can remember her telling me that I was such a pretty little, girl, it was such a shame I wasn't skinny like my cousins and sister. "You have such a pretty face, what a shame."
Looking back at the childhood pictures ... the ballerina cousins, and my too skinny sister that had to be taken to the doctor frequently to have her weight checked ... I was normal. I wasn't even chubby! My dad, my maternal grandmother ..constantly drilling into me that my sister was the normal one ... the reality, in the records my mom has, I was on the 30%ile for weight, my sister, not even on the chart!
One family re-union, she was the last to arrive. All three families there ... all of us kids already in the lake to swim. Grandma pulled up and called us. None of us wanted to go give her a hug ..swimming was more fun. She finally yelled "Kids, Grandma has presents!"
Out of the water we ran ... hey, we were kids ya know!
The packages were identical, but had our names on them. We opened them ... and then we looked. They were Tshirts from some place she'd been. The other girls all had pink, the boys dark blue ... mine ... was blue. I looked up at Grandma with tears in my eyes and said "Why isn't mine pink?"
Grandma looked at me and said "Meg, because, you're such a rough girl, you'd have the pink dirty in no time, it'd be ruined, you're not feminine enough to wear pink."
I told her again "My name is not Meg " and I called for my dog Meg and walked to the tent to put my tshirt up. My cousins all went to put theirs on while my mother proceeded to try to explain to my grandmother why I was crying instead of hugging her neck.
My sister came in and said "when Grandma goes, you can have my pink shirt"
I don't think either of us ever wore either shirt.
I was 40 before I wore pink comfortably. When I realized that her declaration of not being feminine enough to wear pink was'hogwash' (one of her favorite words) and I had every right to wear it. It is now, my favorite color!
So, My favorite sister in law dear. The pink shawl that you carefully took the time to knit for me, in pink, is precious to me. Not only is it femenine, and girly, and warm and snuggly, and PINK ... but it is all the things that my grandmother would have told me I would not have been pretty enough for. It's all the things that make me feel that I am a girl. I am female, I am a SHE and deserve to feel like a SHE in pink.
So thanks Pam, it was just what I needed. :) And in pink too. :)