Colors of a Chameleon

When I was 16-years-old I had my aura read by a mystic in the upstairs bedroom of my grandmother's house.

He was a long-time friend of my aunt who was in from out of town. He claimed, that since a young age he had seen the colors of people's energy fields. Vibrating around all of the people he encountered were colors, signifiers for the personalities residing within.

His eyes did not meet mine as I stood in front of him awkwardly, like most 16-year-old girls would do, but went to the places around my perimeter. He waved his hand close to my shoulder where I assume a color of question resided.

You are a traveler, he said interpreting the colors. You can blend in and change to meet almost all circumstances. With some polishing of your Venus, you can attract people of all backgrounds, anyone you choose.

This wasn’t new news to me. I was and assumed I would always be a chameleon, a master of camouflage whose colors changed to match my surroundings.

In the eyes of some, this is an asset. But the thing about chameleons is, do they ever really belong? Where is their one true place, if they can reside in all places.

The line between belonging and not was blurred for my young self. This led me to people, places, and things that were not my own. I felt lost and had no direction.

To this day, it is easy for me to fit in, but when my colors change I am left with a sense of searching. My mind immediately longs for the place I think I am meant to be.

I am tired of searching. Like a chameleon, I have discovered the one place I belong is with myself. Regardless of my colors, I am always with me, adapting, and moving forward.

It is up to me to find the bright areas of the places I am in and to let my best colors onto my skin.

Lastly, He also mentioned something about a rejected bride complex. Long story short, he was right, but let's save that story for another day.