{What's in a name?}

Well, growing up as a redhead I have to say it was tough. I hated it. Every old person loved my red hair. They always told my mom how beautiful it was. But all I saw when I looked in the mirror was a girl who hated her hair color. It was stupid I'd say or why do I have to have red hair? I would always wish my mom would color it for me. She would always tell me that she knew it was tough to be a redhead, but one day I would love it! She didn't understand (I thought to myself) the kids at school didn't call her names like the ones the boys called me at my school. It took alot of tears and wishing that it would go away but since that didn't happen I decided to get tough and not take the boys crap anymore!! (Oh by the way the Name:Carrot Crotch or fire crotch, it wasn't until later they tried fire in the hole:( all of those are bad) So the next time one of them called me that, I would chase them down and kick them in their weenis, yes I just said weenis! I watched them fall to the ground crying while I stood over them and said "Now look who is crying, don't ever call me that again!" I felt as if I meant business. There was only one time that I felt bad for giving the kick of pain. I had, had it. He called me names one to many times! I kicked him so hard in the weenis that he pee'd blood. :( But from then on out he knew I meant it when I said "don't call me that again"
Everyone knew if they wanted to make me furious then all they had to do was call me a NAME.
I guess the moral to this story is: I hated my hair because other people made me hate my hair. I now love everything about my hair, the color the style the works. Stand up for yourself, don't take peoples crap and learn to love yourself.