Blue

Blue was the color my childhood bedroom was supposed to be.

I was three when my family moved out of our Manhattan apartment and into our current suburban Long Island home. In comparison to my crowded bedroom overlooking 86th street, my new, spacious bedroom felt like my very own castle. I was at the peak of my princess phase, after all. I wore tiaras, carried a wand, and refused to respond to any name other than Cinderella. For this, it was no shock to my mom that when given a choice of wall color, I chose pink without hesitation. My mom is an artist, and thus took it upon herself to create the most beautiful walls a young princess could ask for: sponge painted pink complete with a delicate daisy vine trim. It was perfect- for a three year old, that is.

As I grew old, so did my pink walls. Around the age of ten, I entered into my tomboy phase. I played basketball, wore baggy clothing, and loathed anything pink. I remember heated arguments with my mom, begging her to change the color of my walls. I felt like an outsider in the one room I could call my own. Eventually my mom gave in, but under one condition: the daisy trim had to stay.

I remember weeks spent sleeping on an air mattress in my unfurnished, unfinished room. After moving all my furniture into storage, my mom single-handedly re-sponged painted my walls, pressing blue paint over the pink. She worked meticulously and diligently, making sure the daisy trim remained untouched by the blue coloring. Finally, after weeks of work, my mom and I stood back and observed the final product. My walls, once princess pink, were finally…

…purple.

The blue paint had mixed with its pink base to form a pale purple color. I still wonder to this day how we failed to notice the mixing of the colors during the month-long painting process. Although I still wanted blue walls, my mom didn’t care. She was not about to spend another month painting my walls for a third time. Anyway, she considered the paint job a success: along the edges of my new purple walls, remained the original delicate, daisy vine trim.

One thought to “Blue”

  1. I really liked your post! At the end, I kinda got the feeling that the “daisy vine trim” represented the part of your childhood that still remains with you. But, of course, that’s just my interpretation. I totally know what you mean about the princess stage. When I was younger, I had a Princess Jasmine barbie doll that I treasured and Pocahontas was, definitely, my favorite princess. I think I was obsessed with anything Disney, in general, though. I remember collecting all the Disney Happy Meal toys and playing with them in my room. But tastes change…. Ha ha I like the link to the parenting website. I always stand in awe of these websites. Can you really teach parenting? Anyway, I think every girl sheds the “princess” phase. I completely moved from princess to Star Wars at some point. I was never a complete obsessed Star Wars fan, but I loved Queen Amidala, Yoda and Obi Wan Kenobi when I was younger. Now, I’d like to say that I’m more balanced in my interests. I still like watching Disney Princess and Star Wars movies. Will our tastes ever stop changing?

Leave a Reply