My red hair and freckles were always a target for bullies when I was in school. Didn't have much of a choice with either of them so I learned to live with it. I went home crying on numerous days but I think the combination was designed to make me the independent bitch that I am today. I wear the title Bitch like a badge of honor. I had to work to get to the point where I didn't care what other people think of me. Fuck you if you don't like me, my auburn locks or my 'angel kisses'. Who says I like you anyway?
'Angel kisses'. That's what a family friend use to call my freckles. They said that the angels in Heaven must have been very sad when I left to be born, because they kissed me so much before I left. Each place they kissed became a freckle. When I was a little girl, being told that always made me feel better when I was being picked on about my 'spots'.
There are hazards to being a true ginger. I am a perfect candidate for skin cancer. Back when I was a kid, we didn't worry about sunblock or skin cancer. I had sun poison more times than I can remember. My mom kept Noxzema readily available during the summer. That was what we used to cool the sting of a severe sunburn. God knows, I still remember what sunburn feels like, even though I haven't been sunburnt in years. Once we found out about using aloe to help take the bite out of the burn, that is what we used.
Trust me when I tell you, I learned to avoid direct sunlight. With my sleep issues and the need to stay in the shade, I have gotten called 'vampire' on numerous occasions. Didn't matter that I actually wore a cross pendant for years, I was convincing (ornery) enough to actually have a few gullible kids believe that I really was a vampire. I always thought that was funny. I have been fond of the vampire myth for years, because I felt kindred to them.
Being a redhead also means that as you go gray, your flaming curls (in my case) start to look mousy. When that began to happen, I introduced myself to Miss Clairol. She makes sure that my hair stays a wonderful Lucille Ball red. I love it. Hated my hair as a kid, love it as an adult. Funny thing is, there are so many women dyeing their hair red these days. They don't have the attitude that goes along with being a true red. They will never get that attitude. You have to be born a ginger and tortured as a ginger to get that particular attitude.
I am still ghost white pale (well, if you don't count the freckles, of course). My hair is still bright red, with a little help these days. I stay out of the sun except to pass from one shaded spot to another. In the past, these little things would have pissed me off. They don't anymore. I revel in the fact other women want something that I was born with, amazing, right? Guess that makes me special...
...but then, I already knew that.
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