I don't really come on this site anymore since my hair has not been falling out for a few months now, but I wanted to post this picture and a blurb to try and offer some encouragement and hope to those seeking answers and reassurance on this site just as I so desperately did not so long ago.
My hair started falling out in August 2011. Starting with my eyebrows, it eventually took all of my hair at one point or another. By February 2012, just as it got so bad that I couldn’t really hide it anymore, I bought a wig. At its worse I had only a couple patches of hair left on my head about 2 or 3 square inches big with some peach fuzz in some other areas that were growing back, and I had a hard time clipping my wig on.

Many hours were spent looking in the mirror, examining new growth and new patches as they came and went, seeing doctors and researching online for holistic remedies with few answers, trying to dye some colour back into my eyebrows and hair, and taking photographs of myself that made me feel like I was still attractive. I was lucky because I was used to having short hair, but I have to admit that the sometimes sickly appearance of the lack of hair and the frustration over the lack of answers brought me to tears on more than one occasion.

I am someone that is very open and comfortable with who I am, so wearing the wig made me feel very uncomfortable because I felt like I was hiding who I really was. It really put into question how comfortable I really was with being vulnerable in front of others. I didn't want others to know because I didn't want them to think I was sick, and I was afraid of having to tell people what was going on. It was difficult to know how to bring the subject up. I 'came out' to a few close friends, and even some people I barely knew, and didn't really mind answering the questions. In fact I wanted to explain it to them so that they would understand and know that this is a common occurrence, especially amongst women. It was moreso having to 'come out' with it that frightened me, but once the cat was out of the bag I was able to tear the wig off and be myself again with them.

To be quite honest, not wearing the wig became a very freeing experience. Taking my wig off became a way of taking off all the layers I put on to hide myself from the world. Feeling the air directly against my scalp and just feeling like I was not hiding anything was fantastic. When not wearing it in front of others, all walls were torn down. I was quite literally laid bare in front of them, and there was nothing left to hide. I was entirely vulnerable, and every single person that I ‘came out’ to met that vulnerability with their own. I became much closer with several people thru telling them my biggest secret.

Part of me thought that my hair wouldn’t grow back. The doctor tried to reassure me but admitted that due to the extent of my hair loss full regrowth was much less likely. He couldn’t give me any real answers, and I’m not sure the medication he gave me helped much either tho I continued to use it religiously because I felt like I had to do something to try and get my hair back. I began to think about whether I would continue wearing a wig if my hair never grew back.
Eventually I started being able to correlate hair loss with stressful moments in my life. A few situations caused me to have knots in my stomach for days or weeks at a time, my heart would feel like it was constantly racing, and my jaw would clench up from the stress. Almost like clockwork, a few weeks later there would be new patches of hair loss. Most if not all of these feelings were the result of letting other people put me thru situations that made me feel this way instead of respecting myself enough to not tolerate their behaviour. You could say that thru my alopecia I have learned to respect myself more, and not sacrifice my own wellbeing.

As my hair grew back, I reveled in the little landmarks. Each new patch of peach fuzz, the feeling of my hair rubbing against my pillow, and each hair that regained its golden blonde lustre gave me hope and excitement. In October my hair was mostly back, and tho it was still extremely short and a tad patchy I just couldn’t take wearing the wig any longer and deemed it good enough to pass off as normal in public. When some close friends that I hadn’t told commented on my short new haircut, I took the opportunity to tell them what had really been going on. Leaving the wig at home was a terrifying step; I remained fearful that it would continue to fall out. I was very aware that once the wig was off, there was no going back. Some patches have fallen out since then but most of those are now growing back as well. As you can see in the picture, my hair is getting longer and I’ve finally got my curls back!!

I am incredibly grateful that the stigma, fear, itchiness and pain, constant awareness of my wig and everything else is finally over. Tho it has only been a just over half a year since I stopped wearing my wig, I forget that it even happened. It feels like a distant memory now, and if it weren’t for the photos I took to track the changes I would have forgotten how much hair I had actually lost. Yet, even tho I am incredibly grateful to seemingly be back to ‘normal’, in some ways I miss my alopecia. I miss the ability to lay myself bare by simply taking off my wig. I miss the feeling of the breeze against my scalp. I miss the softness of my peach fuzz. I miss the connection it gave me with others when I was willing to be vulnerable with them.

I know this probably sounds a bit crazy if you are still going thru it. Don’t get me wrong, I in no way miss the baldness – I miss the bareness. Having alopecia taught me many things, but perhaps two major lessons in particular. Alopecia was a physical way for me to learn to be connected to my non-physical self – my emotions, my intentions and my beliefs – and ensure that these are respected both by myself and others in every situation. Secondly, as someone that doesn’t hide very much it gave me a secret big enough to make sharing it terrifying, which taught me not to be afraid of being vulnerable because everyone is afraid to be vulnerable, and there is so much connection to gain when we allow ourselves to be vulnerable with each other. So, I do miss the opportunities to be bare that alopecia gave me, but I bring those lessons forward with me – and I wish the same for you.

Please share what alopecia taught you!