The Power of Red
by Robin Allen
My name is Robin, and red is my favorite color.
I've been wearing red since I was in my twenties. Red dresses. Red jackets. Red pants. Red lipstick. Even red hats. Back when business suits were the corporate uniform, I owned several in bright, confident shades of red. I've worn red in author photos, at speaking engagements, and for special celebrations. There were even seasons when my two daughters and I would all dress in red.
I may sound a little obsessed, but I'm really just a woman who loves fashion and all things feminine. My closet has every color imaginable, and I enjoy wearing them all. But there has always been something special about red.
When I first started wearing it, I wasn't thinking about symbolism. I simply loved how it looked. Later I learned that red is often called a power color, a color associated with confidence, courage, passion, and visibility.
The funny thing is, I hadn't chosen red because I wanted to make a statement. I chose it because it made me feel good. But over the years, I realized the color was doing something I hadn't recognized. Whenever I wore red, I stood a little taller. I smiled a little more. I walked into rooms with quiet confidence. Red became less about what I was wearing and more about how I felt.
It became my power color.
But life happened. Job losses. Disappointments. Relationships that changed. Friendships that faded. The weight of responsibilities. The quiet accumulation of disappointments that many women carry without anyone noticing.
Life has a way of changing how you see yourself. During difficult seasons, you're expected to be resilient. You keep showing up. You keep taking care of everyone else. You keep moving because stopping isn't an option.
But somewhere along the way, you begin to shrink. Not physically. Emotionally. Spiritually. Sometimes even visibly. The hardest part is that you don't realize it's happening.
I stopped wearing my favorite color
One day I stood in front of my closet and noticed something I had never paid attention to before. Black. Black was everywhere. There were beautiful dresses, jackets, sweaters, and slacks, but black had quietly become my wardrobe of choice. Red hadn't disappeared, it had simply been pushed to the back of the closet.
At first, I told myself it was practical. Black matched everything. Black was slimming. Black was professional. But the truth ran much deeper. Somewhere along the way, I had stopped wanting to be noticed.
I had become comfortable blending into the background instead of stepping into the spotlight. I wasn't volunteering my opinions. I wasn't seeking opportunities to be seen. I was present, but not fully. Existing instead of fully living.
Then one day, a friend casually teased me, "What happened to all your red?" She probably forgot the comment moments later. I didn't. Her words stayed with me because they exposed something I had been unwilling to admit.
I missed the woman who wore red.
Not because of the clothes, but because of who she was. She laughed more. She dreamed bigger. She believed in herself. She didn't apologize for taking up space. That simple observation became an awakening.
Reclaiming my favorite color
I realized I had a choice. I could continue disappearing. Or I could reclaim myself.
The first thing I did wasn't life-changing. I reorganized my closet. I moved every red outfit to the front. I tried them on one by one.
I smiled.
Some dresses reminded me of conferences where I spoke with confidence. Others reminded me of birthdays, celebrations, and moments when I felt beautiful without questioning whether I deserved to.
Those clothes weren't just fabric. They were reminders.
Every red blouse, every red dress, every swipe of red lipstick reminded me that the confident woman I thought I'd lost had never actually disappeared.
She had simply been waiting for me to find her again.
Reclaiming red became much more than fashion. It became a decision. The decision to stop hiding. The decision to stop believing that difficult seasons get to define me. The decision to choose joy again. To choose visibility. To choose confidence. To choose myself.
Red still represents courage. It still represents confidence. It still represents passion.
But today, it represents something even greater. Hope.
The hope that no matter how much life changes us, we can always reclaim the parts of ourselves that made us feel most alive.
Maybe for you it isn't red. Maybe it's painting again. Maybe it's traveling. Maybe it's dancing. Maybe it's writing. Whatever it is, reclaim it.
It's about making the decision that you're not going back to the woman who settled, stayed silent, or slowly disappeared.
As for me, you'll be seeing a lot more red. Not because it's fashionable. Not because it's flattering. But because every time I wear it, I'm reminded of the woman I've decided to become again.
Bold. Brilliant. Beautiful.
And no longer afraid to be seen.
Robin Allen is a multi-published author of women’s fiction, romance, and YA novels: It Starts With A Promise: A Novel; It’s Complicated: A Novel; The Best Thing Yet; If I Were Your Woman; Breeze and The Starters: Unexpected. As a freelance writer, she has written 40+ articles for national publications, including Hope, Digital Flourish, Essence, Today’s Black Woman, Atlanta Woman, Black Elegance, and Diversity Careers. Robin has worked as a senior-level manager in marketing, communications, and public relations for Fortune 500 and technology companies.