The Odd One Out
October 3, 2022
Author: Grace Gefsky
Editor: Hannah Ostfield
I have been teased for my red hair for as long as I can remember. Over the years, I have racked up quite the roster of nicknames. From the classics like “Ronald Weasley,” or “Pippi Longstocking” whenever I wear two braids, to the most innovative mockery, “Ketchup,” the name calling is something I’ve become rather used to. In all honesty, I consider some to be a compliment: everyone likes Ketchup, right? Even in my own family, I’m the odd one out: my Dad and brother are brunettes, while my Mom and youngest brother are blonde.
As children, we are desperate for cohesion — for a sense of belonging. Thus, as a young girl, it felt infeasible to love my hair, seeing that almost everyone around me had hair similar to one another, and different from mine. Family members, close friends, and even hairstylists persistently told me to not only appreciate, but flaunt my “one of a kind” dark-auburn color, but I never listened. Rather than wearing it down and proud, I consistently hid my red streaks in a ponytail or bun. It wasn’t until high school that I began to see the value in being different, even if it was just because of my hair. Today, my hair is the longest it has ever been, and I love wearing it down and on display.
In the past year, A-list celebrities have taken to dying their own hair my hue. Dua Lipa, Emma Chamberlain, Zendaya, and Gigi Hadid have all gone red. Even Kendall Jenner, arguably the world’s biggest supermodel, broke the internet when she posted an Instagram photo of herself with luscious copper-toned locks. The amalgamation of recent red-headed stars catalyzed a worldwide transition to the style becoming a “trend.” Since then, many friends have come up to me asking if I think they would look good with red hair, even holding my hair up to their own heads in front of the mirror to test it out.
What I’ve learned is that we cannot wait for other people to approve of the traits that make us different. My childhood self would look to this emerging trend as the ultimate validation: some of the world’s most loved women willingly changing their hair color to match my own. Rather than waiting for people around me to validate my insecurities, I should have made more of an effort to find value in my uniqueness when I was younger. Insecurities, in whatever form they present themselves, are inevitable: they are universal in trying to bring us down. Though our insecurities can force us into hiding, we must reform them into a beacon of pride. If I had waited for the endorsement of super stars to validate my red hair, I would have been miserable for nearly nineteen years of my life. Ultimately, accepting who we are and embracing our differences makes for a more inclusive and compassionate world, even if that simply means refraining from calling a redheaded friend Ronald Weasley.
