Grey

I consider myself a “grey” person.

You’re wondering why I picked this colour, although I generally wear blue, or white, or pink on a daily basis?

One can argue (or agree) that grey is the right compromise between my fairly pale skin tone mixed with the potential of darkness my mind can develop (not even talking about my teenage favourite style of music, the make-up and the insomniac lines around my eyes). My blue eyes sometimes turn grey, depending on the light and the emotions.

I consider myself a “grey” person because I was raised and trained to develop critical analysis and reach consensus. To me, nothing is black or white: even though I can get fairly enthusiastic about one side or the other of a story, I need to consider black and white before deciding. That also means that I sometimes decide NOT to decide, which is often perceived as a weakness. I on the other hand call it “understanding the big picture”.

I was proposed a few times to engage in politics. But as the happiest devil’s advocate, I just smiled as an answer. I was asked many times about my opinion on societal matters. I bail and refer my interlocutor to different articles. I am the best alibi you could pick to hide yourself against anything: not that I am a liar, but I will consider the options and behave accordingly.

I live in a place now where cultural exchanges thrive, as much as subsequent misunderstandings, clichés, fears. I’ve been through a lot of phases in the past months, where I empowered these misunderstandings, clichés and fears, but not against the other but rather against myself.  After a year in the region however, I’ve washed all of the above to embrace the blue of the sky, the yellowish orange of the sand, and the grey of my mind.

And for those wondering whether I feel grey because I’ve enjoyed “50 Shades…”, nope I haven’t read it and don’t ever plan to do so. Unless I decide to apply my grey matter for science. Who knows.