My Name Is Pink

When I began writing My Name is Pink, I was thinking about a voice. A voice that is often overlooked, misunderstood, or simplified. Pink is everywhere, yet rarely heard. She's seen as sweet, soft, girlish-but she also holds rage, memory, power, and resistance. This book is my way of letting her speak. As a feminist and an advocate for women's rights, especially in areas like menstrual poverty and access to dignity for girls and women around the world, I believe deeply in reimagining the symbols we take for granted. Pink has too often been used to mask pain, silence voices, or sell an illusion of beauty. But I wanted to ask: What if pink could tell her own story? What if she remembered being red-bold, loud, alive? My Name is Pink is part poem, part riddle, part visual meditation. It travels through literature, history, girlhood, and the politics of the body. Each page is a layer of metaphor and memory, drawing from writers like T.S. Eliot, Emily Dickinson, Virginia Woolf, and Shakespeare-not to borrow their voices, but to echo, question, and expand on the spaces they left behind. The final pages speak directly to the issue of menstrual poverty-a subject too often ignored or stigmatized. For millions, menstruation is not just a private experience; it's a public injustice. To be denied access to basic hygiene is to be denied freedom. I wanted to peel that back. This book is for anyone who has ever felt boxed in by expectations-by labels like "pretty," "nice," or "appropriate." It's for every girl who twirled in a pink dress and every woman who grew up wondering if softness could be strong. And it's for every person still learning that identity is not something given-it's something made, reshaped, and reclaimed.