But I see your true colours
I see your true colours
That’s why I love you
So don’t be afraid to let them show
Your true colours
True colours are beautiful,
Like a rainbow
Eva Cassidy, True Colours
If it weren’t Eva Cassidy singing this to a romantic partner, one might imagine that God might say this to us. God loves us and takes us, just as we are, without the “act”. As the saying goes, ‘God doesn’t get disillusioned with me, He never had any illusions in the first place’.
The lyrics could be read as a call to be ourselves. The lines strike me, because, in my childhood, my true colours weren’t what was good, or Godly, about me. My true colours weren’t the impeccable behaviour I displayed within the school gates, but the monster I was outside of them. I was told;
If your teachers could see your true colours, what you’re really like, they wouldn’t be nearly so pleased with you”.
My true colours weren’t (aren’t?) pretty. A teacher, from a 200m distance did once see them. She saw me shouting angrily at my mother, for reasons I’ve long since repressed. Repressed, mainly because what followed the next morning was a whole-school assembly on what the teacher had witnessed from that distance, and how wrong it was to behave that way.
I’m not sure what God would define as our “true colours” – the bits of us that we hide away from (most of) the world? Or what’s there when the rest is washed away? As I’m returning to being an incredibly angry person (see Implode) at one level, and perfectly amiable at another, I worry about this. Because my true colours, being myself, seems to hurt people.