My Son’s Black Crayon Drawing Made Me Fear the Worst—Then He Revealed Its True Meaning
Everything started with a phone call that made my stomach drop. During a preschool drawing activity, my son had colored everyone brightly—except me. I was drawn in black. A psychologist mentioned words like fear and dominance, and the idea that my child might be afraid of me unsettled me deeply.
That night, I asked him why.
“Because black means power,” he said simply. “You’re the most powerful, Daddy.”
Relief came—but so did clarity. I realized how easily strength can feel like distance to a child, how my serious tone and constant corrections might weigh heavier than I intended. Being reliable wasn’t the same as being emotionally present.
I didn’t make big promises. I made small changes. I softened my voice, offered choices, and carved out time just for us. We built things, took walks, laughed, and talked about everything from dinosaurs to stars. Slowly, the tension I hadn’t noticed began to fade.
Months later, I found another drawing. This time, I was colored gold.
That’s when I understood: true strength grows when it’s paired with gentleness—and sometimes, stepping into the light begins with listening.
