I go red all the time. If someone asks me a curly question, talks about their pink bits, or catches me off-guard with confronting chat. Sometimes I’m not even embarrassed, I just turn red mid conversation totally unwarranted. Then, I notice I’m going red, get self-conscious and start turning redder; a vicious cycle that leaves me looking like a cherry tomato. I feel like I should be the new poster child for Red Skins, at least the branding would be more politically correct.
I thought this would be something I’d grow out of, but I feel like it’s gotten worse. I’m acutely aware of it now, hypersensitive. It’s especially frustrating at work, I want to appear professional, self-assured and instead end up looking like a blushing Japanese school girl but half as cute.
It’s weird because I have always been a pretty confident person. As a kid I had some serious hutzpah. I really liked being the centre of attention, I had a big mouth and big gall. Bindi and I made short movies and I was always cast as the lead. My favourite; a white-trash man named Johnny, who wore a leather jacket and baseball cap, had a long ponytail and beat on his wives (played by my other sisters). Johnny the polygamist abuser; my breakthrough role.
In high school I was on the debate team and didn’t mind public speaking. In fact, I kind of enjoyed delivering speeches on set topics. I studied drama, and for my HSC performed my own material which included an excerpt of Bohemian Rhapsody that I sung/butchered. Definitely not the coolest kid, but gutsy none the less. I thought I’d be an actress, go to NIDA or end up a drama teacher delivering theatre sports. If I enjoyed being in the spotlight so much, what has sent me scarlet?
Honestly, I think I am more insecure now, I’m all up in my own head; analysing, self-reflecting, assessing, and I’m terrified of looking stupid. When you’re an adult you feel like you have to impress other adults, dumb isn’t cute, idiotic isn’t endearing.
Perhaps it’s not as bad as it seems; internally my face might feel like a fucking blistering inferno, but I’m just reflecting a healthy pinkish glow. Maybe people don’t even notice or they find my blushing cute. Maybe it puts them at ease or makes them feel important because their presence sent me pink.
I don’t remember my redness ever being an issue until now, and there is kind of nothing I can do about it. It’s a physical reaction I have no control over. So I guess I can only look at the positives; I’m now well-versed with hot flushes, so menopause should be a piece of piss. My cherry coloured cheeks can give the impression I’ve been rushing around on important errands, or I’ve had some bloody rampant sex that’s left me with a post-coital goddess glow. That ain't so bad.