Ireland; as Told by a Redhead

Being a redhead means that everyone always assumes that you must be only Irish and related to every other redhead on the planet. Fact: just because you saw a ginger at the store two days ago does not make them my cousin. Fact: I’m not just Irish. Though I don’t know the percentages, on top of being part Irish I am also part German and Native American (who would have thought given my wintery complexion and flaming red hair). Being a redhead means that nobody is really sure where you’re from (despite assuming you’re relate to every Irishman on the planet). Maybe you’re English, French, American, and of course maybe Irish or Scottish. It’s always a guessing game, especially in Europe. But no matter the percentage of this or that, a redhead will always feel a strong identification with the mother land (Ireland), and I never understood why that connection existed until now.

Ireland is a redheads dream. The landscape compliments as a perfect background to the fiery crown upon our heads. With the greenest greens and greyish skies, we are a matching piece of the puzzle. It is those crowns of fire that draw us home to the castles and cathedrals, because every redhead believes she is a princess.

Ireland is a place where we blend in because you look like you belong. It is a place where people don’t ask if that’s your natural hair color (do not even get me started on people who dye their hair red and call themselves a ginger). It’s a place where people don’t stare. It is a place where I personally felt at home. Ireland made me feel beautiful and more confident just by being in the country. That’s the magic of Ireland. You may be only 1% Irish, but the lust for a place like this runs deep.

So if you feel that connection too, grab a Guinness, sing a tune, and cheers to the luck of the Irish!