something pink

I do not like the color pink.
This is just a simple fact, requiring no reasons. It is natural for me not to like that color. There is no bad childhood traumatizing experience related to pink. It simply is not my favorite color.
I was very mean in high school. It was a girl school. Girls in that age usually liked pink, and so did most of my classmates. Once I yelled at a classmate because she was in a pink dress. (Even now thinking back and imagining that dress gives me goose bumps.) "How can you wear that disgusting color!?"
A company tried to offer me a job by saying "If you can bring the company some number of new costomers, you will be rewarded a pink toyota." I immediately rejected the offer.

Now I am a much nicer person. I understand that people have feelings. I do not just yell at anyone in pink. I do not just yell at anyone in pajamas outside their home. I do not just lecture anyone who eats cookies with trans fat. I do not just lecture anyone who takes an elevator from the 1st floor to the 2nd floor.
I smile and shake my head in my head, sighing "People!"

A saying in English expresses something so obvious but eveyone ignores it. It is "pink elephant" or "elephant in the room".
I see that elephant everyday.
I see that pink elephant e-ve-ry-day.
Do you know how this feels? It is like I see a real huge PINK image which would hurt my eye. I am so hurt that I cannot bring myself up to speak my mind. I cannot even shake my head in my head. I just have to turn away and not look at her.

Ooops.
Lyndsey and I came to Penn State at the same time. We have shared the office for more than 4 years. She is a very nice and smart person.
I admired her in the first year. She did a great job losing weight by eating so little for 12 months straight. I was hoping to see a great real-life example of the weight-watcher commercial. She was so confident and sharp and knowing her goals.
But she started doing things not very smart. She became a woman that she had not liked.

I liked her when she wanted to be fit. She gave it up when falling in love. Because her boyfriend (now husband) did not care about her body image. But losing weight is a good thing for herself, not for any other person. I was disappointed that she admitted her purpose of losing weight. She became even bigger. She stopped exercising. She panted after just walking a little section in the hallway.
It is unbearable that I am not brave enough to yell at her and witness her health condition getting worse.

She is expecting a baby next March.
Honestly, I do not think it is a good idea to have children at the same time as doing a PhD.
If I could go back in time, I would've told her:
Hey, dear Lyndsey, I am saying this as a caring friend. You should be very healthy before getting pregnant. You should know you can finacially support you and your family before getting pregnant. You should be more active. Walking more is not killing your feet. For your future and your baby, you need good health.

But I did not say it. I am not going to say it, either. How can I?
You are fat! You are too talkative!
No... I am not that mean teenager anymore.
It is too personal. I am not her best friend. I hope there is someone telling her the right thing.
I just do not get it. She is smart. She knows things. She should do her best for her baby and herself.

I am going to keep ignoring the pink elephant next to my desk.