Your Love Life Reduced to a Starburst Metaphor

Whether you’re dating your perceived soulmate or a hot side-piece, we all experience love on a spectrum. Some loves are passionate. Some loves are grueling. A few loves are stable. And the rest are just – meh.

Generally, when we’re romantically-involved, we have some idea of where our bae lies on this spectrum of love. But spectrums can be confusing, and humans love categories; so I’ve gone through the effort of classifying your dates/dating prospects into four tasty groups using the classic Starburst flavors and their super, legit, official rankings – 1. Pink, 2. Red, 3. Orange, 4. Yellow (For all you skeptics: Official Starburst Rankings. And if you still have qualms with the flavor rankings: Nobody cares what an outlier thinks! 😛 #sorrynotsorry).

Now, in case you missed out on your childhood: Starbursts are referred to by color, not flavor (Srsly. You will never hear someone say, “My favorite Starburst flavor is strawberry.” TBH, nobody even knows pink = strawberry.). Pink is the best. Yellow is the worst. Red is only good when there’s no pink, and orange is kind of whatever – but at least it’s not yellow.

#1 Pink: Yaaas queeeeen! 👑👑

pink starburst

No matter how many reds, oranges, or yellows are swimming in your bowl –  hell, even if that saucy piña colada flavor somehow slipped in there – pink is always your first choice. Many times, your pink will be an unrequited love. Even more times, you will be your pink’s red. Pink is the dream. But pink+pink is such a rare combo that most of us end up settling for one of the lesser colors.

#2 Red: The back-up plan . . . 👍


You can’t quite figure out if red is like a nostaglic, fruit-punch throwback or a shitty, viscous cough syrup. But for whatever reason, you can’t stop reaching into the candy bowl. When you’re dating – or doing – a red Starburst, you’re never lonely, but you’re never satisfied either. Regardless, you go along with the charade for as long as you can. There are four main outcomes with reds:

  1.  It fizzles out.
    Because you and your red have a mutual “meh” for one another  (i.e. They too see you as sub-pink.), you’re both just there until you get bored or something better comes along.
  2. Things get awkward when they want more but you can’t offer it.
    When you’re the pink to a red, you’re the asshole. You know you’re just stringing the red along. Eventually, they too will figure this out, and unless they are itching to become a yellow, they will abandon you accordingly.
  3. They become pink.
    While a tiger may not be able to change its stripes, on rare occasion, a Starburst can transcend its color. Although it is more likely for a pink to get demoted to a red than a red to truly transform into a pink – that does not make it impossible. Maybe you misjudged them. Maybe they were only a red because your heart was black. Either way, consider your red the Julia Roberts to your Pretty Woman.
  4. You start rocking rose-colored glasses.
    If you’re weak-willed with low prospects, you’d be surprised how easy it can be to convince yourself your red is a pink.

#3 Orange: Kinda, meh? 👽


You talk to your orange every three to four weeks – when you remember they exist. They’re always a pleasant surprise to run into, but you’d never go out of your way to cross paths. If they’re anything less than a level-7 on the scale of convenience and accessibility, they’re suddenly not worth your time.

On the whole, oranges are very accessible, because they’re all around us. They come in many unexpected forms – your BFF’s sibling whom you occasionally flirt with, the coworker who looks pretty good sometimes, the cute barista at your go-to coffee shop, that one person you see everywhere for some reason, etc. The orange category is really just a state of limbo. Oranges are floating question marks waiting to be sorted into red or yellow (and every once in a blue moon, pink).

When you love in this world of citrus, you often love from afar for fear of removing the mystery component. Nobody wants to break a beautiful illusion. Your best friend’s sibling? Better off a fantasy. You know that would get way too real, way too soon.  And the coworker? Despite their moderate level of attractiveness, they are either: A) Limited in personality, or B) Bat shit crazy, Stage 5 Clingers.  But what about that cute barista? – Doesn’t swing your way. And the person you see everywhere? – Kind of a stalker. Be careful.

Lesson: Oranges are fun to make eyes with but not worth the risks of getting to know.

#4 Yellow: Is there. 😐


When you’re at your lowest of lows, when all of the reds and oranges are occupied – yellow is always there for you. The yellow tier is the tier with the least respect. The fact that they even give you the time of day makes them all the more yellow.
The only way to acceptably court a yellow is for you yourself to be a yellow. If you’re anything above an orange, you’re just as much of an asshole as the pinks stringing along their reds. Stop being lazy. Stop wasting everyone’s time. Since reds and oranges are rather abundant, you really have no excuse.

Side effects of prolonged exposure to yellow may include: nausea, feelings of inadequacy, breakdowns, and diminished self-worth. If you’re delving into this category a lot, you might want to reevaluate your life. Most times, you’d be better off alone.

2 thoughts on “Your Love Life Reduced to a Starburst Metaphor”

  1. I like the analogy. I definitely missed out on my childhood because I know nothing about Starbursts. And I have to add that I was impressed with how direct you were with Starburst Meme Guy and how you stood up for what you wanted and your willingness not to settle.

    1. It’s not too late to try that juicy high-fructose good good.

      Thank you! I will always appreciate Starburst Meme Guy’s honesty, because without it, I would have probably convinced myself everything would work out – but that being said, he can still suck it.

      I hope more of the world can learn to be their own pink Starbursts and decline the red, orange, and yellow relationships.

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