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Pen and Prose

The Color of Your Life

Last night, like so many nights before, I had a dream. I couldn’t tell you what it was about—it slipped away the moment I opened my eyes. But as I drifted between sleep and waking, a question settled into my mind and refused to leave. It was quiet, simple even, but powerful:

 

If your life were a color, what color would it be?

Not just today. Not just this season of your life. I mean the whole journey—your childhood, your heartbreaks, your joy, your losses, the people you’ve loved and the ones who’ve left. The full, unfiltered spectrum of your existence.

I sat with the question for a while. And the color that came to me was gray.

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Not the gray of dullness or indecision, but the gray that comes after black. The gray that emerges when the darkness begins to lift, slowly, reluctantly, and not without effort. It’s a transitional color—a mix of pain and hope, of exhaustion and quiet resilience. It’s a color that says, “I’ve been through something, but I’m still here.”

 

When I ask you to reflect on your color, I’m asking you to look at everything. Maybe your life started out red—bold, passionate, unafraid. Or maybe it was yellow—radiant, playful, full of light. But over time, things happen. Pain finds you. People leave. Mistakes get made. Dreams fall apart. And little by little, that bright color starts to shift. Maybe it dims. Maybe it darkens. Maybe it turns black.

 

If your color is black right now, I want you to know: I see you. And I know how hard that is. I’ve lived in that color for years. It’s isolating and heavy. But black isn’t the end of your story.

I’m not neon blue yet. I don’t shine like some people do. But gray is where I am, and gray is progress. It’s a step forward from the darkest parts. It means the healing has started—even if it's slow, even if it’s messy.

 

And here’s what I’ve learned about moving from black to gray, and eventually to something brighter: it doesn’t happen alone. Healing needs safe spaces. It needs people who listen without judgment, professionals who guide you, friends who sit with you in silence, and partners who love you as you are—flaws and all. Life chips away at your color, yes. But with the right people and tools, you can begin to paint again.

 

Maybe your color has always been bright—green, pink, sky blue. Maybe you’ve never had to walk through the darkest valleys. If that’s your story, I’m truly happy for you. But I ask you to remember—some of us are still crawling toward the light. Some of us are still learning how to hold a brush again. And your compassion, your empathy, your willingness to listen without fixing, can be the difference between someone staying in the dark and finding a way out.

 

That’s one of the reasons I believe in places like Celebrate Recovery. It’s a space where people are honest about their colors. Where no one pretends to be a perfect rainbow. Everyone there has been through something. Everyone’s still coloring.

 

In that dreamlike state where this question first appeared, I saw an image in my mind. A patch of gray, messy and uneven, thrown across a white canvas. Some of it stretched far into the corners, wild and scattered. It wasn’t polished. It wasn’t symmetrical. But it was mine.

That shape—the chaos of it—represents years of trauma, bullying, heartbreak, divorce, bankruptcy, anger, self-discovery, love, and healing. It's a life lived. Not perfect, not finished, but real.

 

So now, I want to invite you to try something.

 

Take a blank sheet of paper. Pick a color—any color—that represents your life as it feels right now.

Close your eyes. Let your hand move across the page. Don’t plan it. Don’t try to make it pretty. Just let the color lead. Let your heart guide the shape.

When you're done, look at what you’ve created.

  • What does it say about the life you've lived?

  • Does the shape make sense to you?

  • Is there pain in it? Joy? Chaos? Peace?

  • Who helped you create this shape?

  • Who hurt you in ways that shaped it differently than you wanted?

  • Most importantly—what can you do, even just today, to add a little light, a little brightness, to your color?

 

I would truly love to hear what your color is. If you feel safe, reach out. Send me a message or drop a comment. Share your story, your color, your shape. Maybe I can be that listening ear for you. Maybe you can be one for me.

Because here’s the truth—our colors are never permanent. They can shift. They do shift. And sometimes, just knowing someone else sees your gray, or your black, or your dimmed yellow, makes all the difference.

You don’t have to color alone.

 

Note: Below are links to my contact information if you’d like someone to listen—I'm here for you. You’ll also find trusted mental health resources. If you or someone you know is struggling, please don’t wait to seek help. Mental health matters, and support is available.

 

Email: aherseycreations@gmail.com

Website: https://sites.google.com/view/herseyphotography/homepage

Instagram: herseyphoto

 

MENTAL HEALTH RESOURSES:

findtreatment.gov

National Alliance On Mental Health

Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration

  • Call or text 988

  • Chat at 988lifeline.org

  • TTY users can use their preferred relay service or dial 711 then 988

Note: The 988 line automatically routes calls by your phone's area code to the nearest crisis center.

Veterans Crisis Line - Reach caring, qualified responders with the Department of Veterans Affairs. Many responders are veterans

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