When I found out the sex of my baby at twenty weeks gestation, the first thing that came to mind was holding that little toe headed bundle of joy in my arms, the light blonde ponytails sticking out horizontally above my toddler’s ears, and even curling my daughters golden locks before her first picture day at school. But after 36 hours of something I will never go through again, out came an angel with a halo of brown curls crowning her perfectly round head. What the…?
Yes, my husband has brown hair; yes, both of my parents had brown hair; yes, both of my sisters have brown hair; BUT MY HAIR IS BLONDE! What’s going on here?
There was absolutely no reason for me to believe that my one and only child would have blonde hair, but I suppose that I just assumed she would be a small version of me. It took years for me to realize how lucky she is to have a head full of shiny brown hair.
It was brown from day one. Blonde hair changes color drastically from birth to adulthood. I know that I went from white wisps to an ashy sand color within just twelve years and there was nothing I could do about it. How many twelve year olds color their hair?
She will be taken seriously. Yes, I said it. It still surprises me how differently blondes are treated as opposed to brunettes, and not just by men. I don’t know if we have the ditzes of yesteryear to thank for this long-lasting stigma, but I don’t like anyone judging my me on the bases on my hair color. It still irks me to see the surprised look on peoples’ faces when they detect traces of intelligence or whit when I speak.
It will never be an excuse. When a grown woman makes a mistake or doesn’t know how to do something, what is the relevance of blaming it on her hair color? Yes, I know it is in jest, but if being incompetent was truly a trait of blonde women, we should find out how many of these are natural blondes. Perhaps they are brunettes that became blondes to make their lives a little easier; thinking they now have free reign to forfeit any responsibility for acting foolish. If I do something stupid, it’s because I was stupid.
I think brunettes are lucky to have their beautiful color. I currently covet my daughters naturally dark 9 year old locks and I will never let her go near bleach or highlights until she’s out of the house. Even then I will stalk her at the hair salon, ready to pounce.
So, why, one might ask, do I not hit the bottle of brown dye if I am so clearly adamant about the ‘dumb blonde’ stigma?
Answer: Because I would look like that poor pale girl from the Adams Family.
*If anyone is offended or disagrees with this blog post or finds horrible misspellings and grammatical errors, please note that the author is blonde.
Side Note: Red hair is just to wondrous for me to talk about here.