About 11 years ago, I looked around my house and noticed every wall was beige — except for Landon’s room, which was blue. Beige was everywhere I looked, and it just bugged me. But for a long time, beige was super appropriate for me. It’s a practical choice. It goes with everything. Beige is a chameleon color.
But I didn’t feel like being a chameleon anymore and I felt suffocated by beige.
One day, metaphorically gripping an energetically wielded mallet, I started shattering the illusion of the perfect life I had crafted. No longer desiring to be a survivalist by adaptation, I stopped people-pleasing. I stopped being a chameleon. And even though my remodeling of my home including knocking down walls to create a great open space, I was boxed in by beige.
I recall standing in the kitchen looking around and saying to myself over and over, “I am not beige. I am not beige. I am not beige.”
The canvas of me was so much more colorful than what I had allowed for myself. I wasn’t just a splash of color or a decorative toss pillow. I was whole room of bold reds and passionate purples, and I was ready to be the colorful me.
So, I started by painting walls. The beige of the high ceilings in my entry living room was transformed into a deep crimson red. My bedroom was painted crimson red, too. The family room’s main wall was painted a regal purple and so was my sanctuary room. Yes, I turned the perfectly decorated guest room anyone would see while walking to the bathroom into a sanctuary with deep purple walls all around. Butterflies hung on the walls. Sedona’s treasured crystals adorned my prayer altar. It was my special room. It was my morning ritual space where I wrote my first stories. I cocooned in there.
And within time, when my first set of wings was ready to emerge, I realized I had no desire to focus on who I had been or what I was no longer.
Instead, I was ready to reclaim my natural energy. I was ready to rediscover me. And as I liquified the beige chameleon-like people-pleasing Kathryn, I pushed my way out of the chrysalis to flutter into the sustainable feeling of freedom. I was free to fly.
I realized it wasn’t about beige walls.
It was about perspective. I had spent so much of my life listening to other people telling me who I am and who I am not. While within I knew who I was, I didn’t always have the tools of self-love to be able to authentically shine the colorful me.
Not until I painted walls, liquified the old me and rested in the cocoon could I reemerge as the colorful me — and experience what it felt like to really soar.
There was a time when I thought I’d write a book for adults called I Am Not Beige focused on my journey. But I realized that was not the space I was being guided toward. No. I was meant to give the tools I didn’t have before to children, and through that energy, adults would get the tools, too, if they chose to hear, see, and feel the message.
When I’m teaching children to “shine shine shine” and about one of the core affirmations of my Kathryn the Grape series, the personal journey I embarked upon to write books and songs is reflected in what we say using our most vibrant and authentic voices: I am colorful.
I am colorful.
You are colorful.
Everyone is colorful.