A Club o’ My Own:-)

The thoughts of a redhead.

At a young age I knew there was something different about me. How could I help it when I overheard older people in the mall commenting on my “beautiful red curls”? Mum said that at two years old I would walk along with my little nose up in the air, pleased as could be with all the attention. These admiring comments continued through my life and I got used to the question, “Where did you get you lovely red hair from?” I also was teased by little boys in school over it as little girls usually are. I identified with my dear Canadian heroine, Anne of Green Gables, though I always liked my red hair whereas she lamented hers, at times with tears.

Yvonne

I found that in my growing up years, I stood out. There were few redheads around and there usually seemed to be an underlying connection between us. There were several redheads in college and we were drawn to one another initially by the mere fact that we were of a different cut of fabric and then, from there, friendships either grew or we went our separate ways.

Josh

Having lived abroad “in foreign lands” I have not always found my red hair to be a desirable thing to possess. When I lived in Mexico, Italy, and India, I couldn’t help but stand out. Many times this brought me undesired attention. Sometimes it was a gift for meeting people. But I never could really feel at home. I would always be seen as a foreigner and after a period of living in Mexico for almost four years and having my home and friends there, I resented that fact.

Julie (for clarification, she is not the redhead) and Amanda

But Scotland–here I have happened upon one of the biggest red-headed capitals of the world! I am continuously amazed at how many red-heads I see. It would be a strange day NOT to see several red-heads as I’m out about my business. The breastfeeding group I go to is comprised of around a quarter (sometimes more) percentage of us of the bright hair. This club I’ve belonged to all my life has suddenly grown dramatically. I look at my little girls and wonder how THEY didn’t happen to get red-hair. I guess I’ll have to try again–eventually.;-)
So though I’m in a foreign land, I feel quite at home. I even feel like I fit in a bit–until I open my mouth, of course. Then I tend to be dubbed as Irish.:-)

This entry was posted on Friday, May 25th, 2007 at 7:32 am and is filed under Rachel's Musings, Reflections & Musings. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.