
There is much said about redheads.

“There was a little girl, who had a little curl, right in the middle of her forehead. When she was good, she was very very good, but when she was bad, she was horrid.” — nursery rhyme that fit me to a tee

My brother could always get under my skin. He knew every button to press. I never got scolded for screaming or crying; HE got the lectures about how to treat his little sister. I never learned emotional restraint in my childhood. Was it because my red hair was thought to indicate that I couldn’t?
We all carry regrets. When I gave my life to Christ, my heaviest regrets, those that weighed my back down with a load unbearable, were born of anger. Blame the hair, blame the lack of habit of, training for, skill at emotional restraint. When I got bent out of shape, those I cared about the most, those closest to me, were the ones to suffer. These may now be sins forgiven, but the harm to others? Their hurts are often not so easily healed.
I find myself in my second life surrounded by strength. By patience. By faithfulness. By truth. These are the traits of those who can stick through the thick and thin that is a redheaded emotional firestorm.
God, meds, humility, love. These and the superhero league surrounding me have worked to gentle me. No, really. They can attest. I used to be Way Worse than you see out of me now.
Well, yeah. And a weekend now and then, devoted solely to the redhead in me - it doesn't hurt.
This has been an entry for The Real LJ Idol writing competition: the Final Season, Topic 4 : “Nobody can ride your back if your back's not bent” .