The Hair Blog
Warning: Bratty Tantrum Ahead
I thought about calling this blog entry something like Hair Today Gone Tomorrow, Hair We Go, Not So Hairy Situation, or something funny and cute like that. But I don’t feel funny or cute. I feel naked and cold and insecure. But I knew that I had to write a blog about hair loss since it is such a huge symbol of cancer.
I didn’t want to have a head shaving party. I don’t want to walk around bald to celebrate my strength and confidence and prove that my true beauty is inside…blah, blah, blah. I know what kind of person I am inside. I am constantly being surprised on this journey by my strength and that of those who are in this with me. Just when I think I can’t take anymore – I do. That’s because of my faith. I really believe that HE is in control and that I CAN do all things through Christ, who strengthens me. But I’m not always happy about it.
Here’s the thing about my hair. I’ve never had a gorgeous body. I am short and chubby. I am not graceful. I am not athletic. And my feet are too big for my height. But I always had fabulous hair – thank you mom. It was thick, black, curly, and versatile. It did what I told it to – except in extreme humidity but nobody’s hair can stand up to a Texas summer. But I didn’t appreciate it. I actually complained sometimes that I had too much hair. I am kicking myself in the butt for that one now. I miss my hair. It kept me warm. It gave me a sense of security. I never realized how I used to wrap my hair around me in uncomfortable situations until I reached for it and it wasn’t there. Hair doesn’t equal beauty but have you ever seen a bald Disney princess? I am no princess but I personally felt better with long hair. And who doesn’t love when someone else plays with your hair? It’s so soothing and calming. Although he is sweet and keeps telling me that I’m beautiful, it just doesn’t feel the same when my husband runs his fingers through the stubble on my head. My eyelashes and eyebrows are thinning out, too. It’s just annoying and looks weird. On the bright side, I don’t have to shave my legs or arm pits.
It’s not all about my vanity. Up until now I have been able to hide the fact that I have cancer. I have been very transparent and honest about the whole situation but until I lost my hair it wasn’t truly real. I could still look in the mirror every day and at least look normal. I could go about my day and forget about cancer for a while. Now I look in the mirror and the bald head staring back at me screams “You have cancer!” It literally shocks me to see the stranger in the mirror every time. Besides the pink ribbon, baldness is the sign of cancer. Most women aren’t bald on purpose unless they also have many tattoos and facial piercings. I suppose that is an option. I would look totally normal in Austin but that’s just not my style. And my husband said no to that. So instead, I wear a wig which I am grateful to have. And even though “it looks just like your real hair,” it’s still obviously a wig. It’s not me. It doesn’t feel good. It actually feels like I’m walking around with a stuffed animal on my head. I know “it’s just hair,” and “it will grow back,” but that’s not the point. The point is that I have cancer and I can’t hide it or escape it anymore. And I don’t like it. I don’t like that now I look sick. I don’t like that it makes people uncomfortable and they’re not quite sure how to relate to me now.
As much as it sucks to loose my hair, there are some awesome things about it, too. Like these people who shaved or buzzed their heads to show their love and support for me.
Sweet Bruce sporting the purple band that says “Kicking Cancer’s Bon Bon” that he and Jana and their kids are selling as a fundraiser for me. They call me Bonnie. And showing his love on the back.
Stacy’s Mohawk. The first thing she said when I told her that I had cancer was “When can we shave our heads?” Followed by “Can we do mohawks? What about henna tattoos”
Before
Obligatory Mohawk
After
