The Chameleon Who Forgot Their Colours
Sam sat at the café, staring at the menu.
His friend was already chatting away, flipping through the options effortlessly. But Sam’s eyes darted from item to item, his stomach tightening. What do I feel like eating?
Nothing. Everything. He didn’t know.
His usual move was to wait and mirror. See what the others ordered and pick something similar. Or better yet, just say “I’ll have what you’re having.”
But today, that same old trick felt… off.
He tapped his fingers against the table, the menu blurring.
The question nagged at him, quiet but insistent:
What do I actually want?
Silence.
Then
As a kid, Sam had never really asked himself what he wanted.
His mum was the loud one—strong opinions about everything from politics to what was for dinner. His dad? didn’t say much, and his older sister? Well, she had already claimed the role of the ‘big personality’ in the family.
So where did that leave him?
At first, he tried to have a voice. But it only ever seemed to bring trouble. The only time people really saw him was when he did something wrong.
A bad grade. A forgotten chore. A misstep.
Rebuke. Scolding. Punishment.
If he stayed quiet, he was invisible. If he pushed back, he was a problem. Neither felt good, but one was at least predictable.
So, he adapted.
If they expected him to mess up, he did. If his friends wanted to go somewhere, he agreed. If someone asked what he wanted, he shrugged and said, “I don’t mind.”
At some point, it wasn’t even a conscious choice. It was just how things were. He reflected others—never himself.
Now
His friend placed their order. The waiter turned to him expectantly.
Sam opened his mouth, ready to say “Same for me.” But then—hesitation.
That voice again.
What if I actually choose?
His mind scrambled. The menu still felt like a test he hadn’t studied for, but this wasn’t about food anymore. It was about deciding.
“I’ll have the… um—” His voice wavered. He scanned the list, searching, feeling, until—
That one.
“The pasta,” he said.
Simple. Small. Insignificant to anyone else.
But to him?
It was something.
Realisation
The question didn’t disappear after that meal. It followed him.
It was there when he stood in his wardrobe, debating between the same old neutral Jacket or something different.
It was also there when his friends asked what movie he wanted to watch, and he almost said, “I don’t mind.”
He did mind.
Choice
Some days the chameleon would still hesitate and some days, he would still default to “Whatever you want.” But now, he knew something important, he had preferences and little by little, choice by choice, he was learning how to use them.
The chameleon never truly forgets its colours but sometimes, it needs something new to remind it of what it’s capable of.
The story is about reclaiming who you truly are and embracing your own uniqueness. Like the chameleon or the man with the yellow chair. The yellow chair represents the power of choice, the courage to step out of what’s familiar and into something that feels true to you even when it doesn’t seem to "fit" at first.
It’s a reminder that you don’t have to live according to the expectations of others. You have the right to define your own path, to choose your colours and to be who you are, no matter how unconventional it might seem.
The only person who truly needs to fit into your world is you.
