I was speaking to my friend Mel recently and I commented on how much I loved her french accent. I do, it’s so lovely to listen to and when I read her blog I have her voice in my head. It’s beautiful. But she said how she hates being labelled ‘french’ – how she’s isn’t ‘french Mel’ – she’s Mel, who happens to be french. But being french doesn’t define her, it’s just part of who she is.
I am the same with being ginger. It’s a huge part of who I am. It’s something I have had a love/hate relationship with over the years and now, in my thirties, it is something I really love about myself. It’s a big part of my identity – as you can tell by the name on this blog, and it’s something I’m so glad to have passed down to LP too.
But, being ginger isn’t all that I am. I’m, at times, referred to as ‘the ginger one’ and every time it grates on me. You see, being ginger is so much a part of me but it isn’t all that I am. I am more than the colour of my hair.
I’m 32 years old and, unsurprisingly, I have been ginger all of my life. In that time I have – in no specific order – gone through school, dropped out of college a handful of times and climbed the ranks in my old HSBC career, I tried internet dating, met a man, got married, had two beautiful kids and bought a house – then another. I got cats, learnt to cook, had an extension built and started a blog.
I have made friends, travelled, taught myself the basics of photography and captured so many memories both at home and away. I have come to terms with vlogging, learnt about blogging, social media and the basics of internet marketing. I have read books, started to write one and have spent time helping other people in every aspect of my life.
I have gone from being a homeless teenager to being a self employed mum of two with a great husband and a lovely home. I have worked hard, given as much back as I could and I have taught my children to be the best that they can be – whilst always being nice.
And that’s about it, for now. I’m me and there are so many different parts to that, one of which is the colour of my hair. But, it doesn’t define me. My name’s Donna, yes, I’m ginger – but I’m also so much more than that.