When you are born a girl pink is your life.
Your shoes, your dress, your hair bow.
It's a pretty cool color.
I didn't really care about the gender identification of inanimate objects.
But I put two and two together.
In the fifth grade a girl wore a dress to school. It was that unfathomable shade of red.
I hated it. I hated her.
It is wrong, I know it is. Was.
It was wrong.
Wrong of me to hate pink and dresses and high heels.
Wrong of them to tell me those things needed to be hated.
I bought a sweater last week.
It was pink.