Growing up, I hated my red hair. It didn’t go with my vision of who I thought I was. Like c’mon, a goth girl cannot have natural red hair?! It’s just not interesting and weird enough, you know. I’ve had fire engine red hair, black hair, green hair, blonde hair and white hair throughout my teens. I thought those colours were far more interesting than what I was birthed with. But when I got older, and really looked at the reasons why I absolutely refused to keep my natural hair colour (sorry mom and dad), it was rooted somewhere in bullying. Children just do not appreciate a ginger headed gal (or guy). They are different, and children love to prey on different. At least, that was the experience I had. I guess subconsciously, I decided to hate the very thing about me that did make me somewhat different (physically), which throughout my teens, was all I wanted to be. How is that for irony?
I grew to appreciate the rarity of red hair, and I dont think I could take a bottle of liquid chemicals to my head again (sometimes I do miss blonde hair though). It’s nice to grow older, and just accept yourself wholly, and laugh at the moments when young idiotic boys would ask: “Do the curtains match the rug?” Sure do kid, sure do.
*Don’t forget I’m having a 30% off sale at Larkspur until Aug. 31st! Enter coupon code OYVEYSOLEIL upon checkout to save some moneys!