Beyond the Pale

Dear Ava,

You can accomplish a lot in this world without melanin.

Just take it from me.

Think of those twins who sing "500 Miles" from the movie Bennie & Joon.

Or the recently departed Margaret Thatcher.

Or former Vogue contributor, author, and foodie goddess Nigella Lawson.

Or half the cast of Twilight.

As insignificant as this is, I used to see my failure to bronze in the sun as something that significantly affected one's quality of life.  Growing up during the belly-baring 90's, you could imagine how much this fashion made me look like a Coleman lantern, especially if I wore olive green.

Since the sun had scalded me enough times for me to get serious about skin protection, I've come to terms with the fact that I'm a bummer as a lakeside companion.  I'll always have to do the majority of my swimming at night.  Random strangers will forever ask me if I'm Irish (and I don't know why that makes them feel like they're the most brilliant people in the world!  It's mostly Scotch-Irish on my dad's side, from what I understand.) And there are some colors I just can't wear without looking like a TB case -- pastels and bright white, mostly.  Yick.

But in any case when you stand as an extreme case of anything (which in our situation, my fair darling, is paleness), you stand out, and standing out can make you stronger.  When you get chilly and your skin becomes transparent and marbled in appearance like Gorgonzola cheese (my favorite, might I add), I've learned to expect questions of whether that coloring is normal.  I don't even raise an eyebrow, because I know that it is -- I remember my complexion behaving the very same way as I froze my way through high school.  (And if you people had brought the air up to a decent temperature in the classroom, you wouldn't have caught me sleeping in my hoodie in April.  So there.)

As your Mommy, I know I'll have to do a lot of explaining on your behalf, especially early on.  I know that not everyone will understand the things you do, or the way you are, no matter how fascinating or adorable or unique those attributes are to me.  The world isn't comfortable with "different", or those who stand out, whether it's out of defiance (eh, me), or whether it come naturally (like you, my popsnorkle!). I came to terms with that a long time ago.  I think your Daddy did, too.  So much so between the two of us, we've adopted it as a trait characteristic of our little family.  Maybe that's why God gave you to us.  

Until today, I guess I never considered your fair skinned loveliness to be one of those things...  So I suppose I had simply better learn to be patient with the world and get used to explaining why I won't ever allow you to spend the day at Magic Springs without hosing you down with SPF 1,052 every two hours.

Don't get me wrong -- I love that you're colored like me.  I also secretly enjoy making your Daddy feel like gingers are taking over his world.  Just don't ever let anyone make you feel like you're any less of a lovely little lady because you're fair.  Take it from a gal who's received nothing but a few extra freckles and an itchy butt from the couple of times I've flirted with a tanning bed.

Burns and blisters are nature's way of reminding us that pale is beautiful, too.

In honor of pale princesses everywhere: 

Baby Riverdancing!