In the open.

I'm just going to go right ahead and say it:

I hate pink. 

It's nothing personal, it just ruins my favorite month of the year. 

October is the most beautiful month--right when fall hits it's prime. 

But it's also Breast Cancer Awareness month; and nothing makes my blood pressure skyrocket faster than those three words. 

October has been deemed "Pinktober" in recent years, and consumers are victim to what is now known as "pinkwashing."

For some absurd reason, people think that things like pink Tupperware, pink lights on the White House and pink ribbons on their favorite NFL team's gear are going to cure breast cancer. 

Newsflash: it's not. Sorry about it. 

When I was in 8th grade, my grandma was diagnosed with breast cancer. 

For the next two and a half years, I watched her endure dozens of rounds of chemo and radiation, deal with the debilitating side effects of multiple brain tumors, and spend countless days in the hospital and ICU. 

When my grandma passed away my sophomore year of high school, I was devastated. 

Everybody dreads the word "cancer" and all that it entails, but for me? It became a nightmarish reality. 

So when people/companies/brands start monopolizing on the natural sympathetic tendencies humans have, and paint their entire brand pink for a month...I get really frustrated. 

It all comes down to what's known as "cause marketing," which is basically manufacturers exploiting what seems like a worthy cause for their own benefit--they know we're sympathetic to cancer victims, and they use that to their advantage. 

Don't get me wrong--I'm all for funding cancer research. 

I've seen the effects cancer + chemo + radiation have, not only on those with cancer, but also on their friends, family, and everybody else surrounding them.

It sucks--and I wish breast cancer, or cancer in any form for that matter, didn't exist. 

But buying hairspray that comes in a pink container, or wrapping your leftovers in pink Saran Wrap isn't doing anybody any good. 

For one of my English classes last year, we had to write a "persuasive research essay," and I chose to do mine on the idea of pinkwashing, and how it needs to end. 

During October, pink becomes the end-all for questions. 

It doesn't matter how much money goes to cancer research, if you slap a pink ribbon on your product you're good! That's not the way it should be. 

 Because in reality, most of the companies that are supposedly "supporting" cancer research are actually taking most of the money for themselves and donating a minimal amount to research. 

There's an organization out there called "Think Before You Pink" who's goal is to promote those companies who actually help with cancer research, and dissuade consumers from supporting those who don't. 

I know I'm just a 19-year-old girl who may have a slight conflict of interest with this whole thing. 

But I know for a fact that a lot more good would be done if instead of buying a pink pair of pliers, we donated our money directly to an organization devoted to finding a cure. 

A news reporter by the name of Gayle Sulik said it best, "If you're going to eat a pink bagel because you like it, eat a pink bagel. But if you're going to eat a pink bagel because you think it's going to cure cancer, think again."

The fact of the matter is, no amount of pink rubber ducks, pink make up brushes, or pink gift wrap is going to cure cancer--or more personally, bring my Grandma back. 

That's the truth. 

And in reality, we could all be doing a lot more good with the money we're spending on those products.

[Okay. Rant over.]