Life as a ginger: It isn’t always a piece of carrot cake

The Weasley family cracks, gingers have no souls and National Kick a Ginger Day. Gingers have heard it all before. But Monday was National Redhead Day, a day for all the carrot tops of the world to revel in the uniqueness of their hair’s hue.

Red hair is a rare trait caused by a recessive gene that often skips generations. Less than 2% of the world is ginger, and someday they will become extinct.

A redhead myself, I’m here to offer some insight into the world of having red hair.

My first observation: elderly people love to put their fingers into your mane, often accompanied by the comment, “I used to have hair exactly like this color back in the day.” 

Not only do I doubt that almost every old person had red hair back in the 1940s – it’s just statistically not possible – it’s incredibly uncomfortable to stand there and reassure them that they’re still beautiful as they fondle your hair strands.

Another observation from a natural redhead: sometimes I forget that my hair is anything special. But other times, it randomly hits me as I look into the mirror that my hair is orange. Like I could use an orange crayon to fill in my eyebrows, and I doubt anyone would notice.

My final ginger observation to share with the blonde and brunette population: you don’t need to remind me to put on sunscreen. Trust me, this freckled skin gets the picture. Going to the pool in the summertime would be a lot more enjoyable without every person I’m with looking my pasty white skin up and down and remarking, “you better put some sunscreen on that.”

And when a redhead actually does manage to get a sunburn, which is not a rare occurrence, the taunting is endless. Please just let us apply our aloe in peace.

Life as a ginger isn’t always a piece of (carrot) cake, but, hey, at least we finally got an emoji.