If someone asked me today, “What colour describes you?”, I wouldn't have to think twice.
It would be light green.
Not emerald. Not olive. Not forest green. Not even the bright, almost neon green that demands attention.
Just light green.
Soft. Fresh. Calm. Alive.
And strangely enough, it has always been my colour.
Ever since I can remember, green has been my favourite. Maybe even before I could properly understand what a favourite colour meant, I was drawn to it. There was something about green that felt familiar to me. It didn't try too hard to be noticed. It simply existed, quietly beautiful, the way leaves look after the first rain or the way new grass feels under your feet.
As a child, I loved green without needing a reason.
As I grew older, I started finding reasons.
Today, light green feels like a little reflection of who I am.
It reminds me of growth.
Life has a funny way of changing us. We grow, we stumble, we learn, we change our minds, we become parents, professionals, friends, partners, caregivers. Some versions of us disappear quietly, while others emerge when we least expect them.
Green is the colour of something growing.
And perhaps that's why I have never really outgrown it.
I have grown with it.
There is also something incredibly comforting about light green. It reminds me of mornings when the house is still quiet. Of plants sitting near a sunny window. Of fresh coriander being chopped in the kitchen. Of trees swaying outside the car window while travelling. Of those tiny moments when you suddenly notice how beautiful something ordinary can be.
Maybe that is what I love most about this colour.
It doesn't scream for attention.
It just makes you feel good.
And perhaps, at this stage of my life, that is exactly what I need.
I have realised that life doesn't always have to be loud to be meaningful. Some of the most beautiful things happen quietly. A child's sleepy hug. A cup of tea that you finally get to drink while it's still hot. A conversation with someone you love. A few minutes to yourself. The first green leaf on a plant you thought wasn't going to survive.
These are little things.
But they matter.
Light green reminds me of that.
It also makes me think of hope.
Not the dramatic kind of hope that comes with big promises. The everyday kind. The kind that says, tomorrow can be a little better.
A new leaf doesn't know how big the tree will become. It simply grows.
Perhaps we could all learn something from that.
I think my relationship with green has changed over the years, even though my love for it hasn't. When I was younger, I loved it simply because it was pretty. Today, I love it because of what it makes me feel.
Grounded.
Fresh.
Peaceful.
Hopeful.
And maybe a little optimistic.
So, if you asked me what colour describes me today, I would still say light green.
Because it feels like a colour that is always becoming something.
And honestly, so am I.
I am still learning. Still changing. Still figuring things out. Still making mistakes. Still discovering little things about myself. Still finding joy in unexpected places.
I don't think we ever really arrive at a final version of ourselves.
Maybe we are meant to keep growing.
Like leaves.
Like trees.
Like that beautiful, imperfect, wonderfully unpredictable thing called life.
And after all these years, my favourite colour still feels like home.
Light green.
It always has been.
And somehow, I think it always will be.
This post is a part of Blogchatter Half Marathon













































