A Yellow Kind of Love

A Yellow Kind of Love

Pink is the fairytale the world reads to young girls at bedtime: princess sitting pretty in palace window as a knight in shining armor scales the castle wall in pursuit of her love. Sweet dreams of candy hearts and Mylar balloons. Schoolgirl crushes that blush their secret.

As a young woman, you long for Red’s romance. The ruby necklace gifted as the perfect accessory to Julia Roberts’ stunning gown in Pretty Woman. Long-stemmed roses as the dinner table’s centerpiece, long-stemmed wine glasses that clink a toast to forever.

With maturity comes an appreciation for Yellow. Love that is like the sun, rising each morning in spite of its mood. Hearty hugs that are like crackling fire warming limbs and soul. A smile like fresh mango, oozing sweetness that cannot be manufactured. Laughter much like the canary’s gleeful chirp, drowning out grief’s heavy sigh. Like a vibrant dandelion, the simple and devoted first love that remembers when we forget, selflessly offering with its last breath: make a wish. While the heart may race with Red and swoon with Pink, it lives, it endures, in the Yellow.

There is a naive girl in me who still wants Pink’s butterflies and playful flirtation. I am somehow still a passionate young lady desiring Red’s sweet nothings and slow dances to R&B. But as a woman who has grown to recognize the steady joy of Yellow, if I ever fall in love again, I will prioritize the colors differently. While I hope that the man will be creative and attentive enough to color in Pink and Red on occasion, I pray, first and foremost, that he will stay with me in the Yellow.

In the meantime, if Red and Pink are no-shows – even on their big day – I am grateful God has chosen to color me love, joy and peace through a village of people wrapped in Yellow.