When I was growing up, I thought with my head of red hair I’d never be able to wear anything but black, white or navy. Any other color just seemed wrong and usually set off some schoolyard bullying. Depressed, I turned to black and graveyard music, even dyeing my hair black to get rid of the dreaded red.
At university a few years later I met a girl who eventually became one of my best friends. The first time I saw her she had a pixie cut, bright red hair and wore a red jumper. In fact, she loved wearing reds and oranges and it worked incredibly well with her pale skin and her red hair. I realised I had been missing out for years, and that she was using what I thought was a flaw to her advantage.
We often see what makes us different as an imperfection, and…
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