Dear ,

I found this picture of two bright yellow chairs on my computer today, and I thought,

"If those bright yellow chairs in that weathered courtyard could tell their story, what might they whisper?"

So here's their story...

The Chairs That Refused to Fade

We weren't supposed to be here.

When they first painted us this bold, defiant yellow, everyone said we were too bright. Too cheerful for a place like this, where moss creeps up stone walls and ivy claims every corner, where time forgets. Decay, beauty, and abandonment hold hands in the shadows here and dance together.

"You'll fade," they warned us. "You'll look out of place." "You don’t belong here."

But here's what we knew that they didn't: Sometimes the places that look most forgotten are the ones most desperate for colour. And sometimes, surviving brightness is an act of resistance.

We’ve watched people wander in, women with tired eyes, men heavy with silence, children looking for magic. Countless souls have discovered us tucked away in this hidden corner. And we love how their faces change when they see us :) It's like they've found unexpected treasure in a place where they expected a sense of loss, hopelessness, and abandonment.

Then they pause, then stop, It’s like we remind them of something they almost gave up on: Hope. Surprise. The belief that beauty might still meet them where they least expect it.

Phones come out.

Smiles soften.

And for a moment, this hidden corner becomes sacred. Magical even.

Ahh, the transformation!

We’ve held stories whispered between lovers. We’ve steadied hands sketching futures, held the weight of old grief, carried the quiet joy of someone sitting down just to breathe.

But our favourite moments are those no one else sees. When someone finds us after heartbreak, after betrayal, after loss, after being told they were too much...

and they sit down, not to perform, but to rest.

To remember.

To realize they don’t need to dim to deserve a place.

That they, too, can be bright in a world that tries to wear you down.

We are the chairs that refused to fade.

We are the ones who stayed yellow, not because the world was kind,

but because we decided not to abandon ourselves.

Because someone has to believe in colour again. Someone has to model what it means to survive brightness. Someone has to show that joy can belong in the ruins.

...And maybe that someone is you.

So tell us ,—what's your story of staying bright?

Dr Sandra Hamilton

Holding You Safe As You Heal