I firmly believed I had reached a place of genuine acceptance. A place where it was no longer "Why me? Who is this foreign creature staring at me in the mirror?" but "I am beautiful and I am the same Val that I was with hair". Yesterday evening shattered this impression. I was at Bible Study at church, a place I had not gone in a while. I kept making excuses that really covered up how embarrassed I was and the fact that I did not love the new Val. Last night I decided it was long past time to attend and was so glad I did. The lesson was on Gethsemane and I personally felt that I understood this topic more now. The instructor shared a beautiful poem entitled Gethsemane by Ella Wheeler WIlcox -

In golden youth when seems the earth
A Summer-land of singing mirth,
When souls are glad and hearts are light,
And not a shadow lurks in sight,
We do not know it, but there lies
Somewhere veiled under evening skies
A garden which we all must see -
The garden of Gethsemane.

With joyous steps we go our ways,
Love lends a halo to our days;
Light sorrows sail like clouds afar,
We laugh, and say how strong we are.
We hurry on; and hurrying, go
Close to the borderland of woe
That waits for you, and waits for me -
Forever waits Gethsemane.

Down shadowy lanes, across strange streams,
Bridged over by our broken dreams;
Behind the misty caps of years,
Beyond the great salt fount of tears,
The garden lies. Strive as you may,
You cannot miss it in your way;
All paths that have been, or shall be,
Pass somewhere through Gethsemane.

All those who journey, soon or late,
Must pass within the garden's gate;
Must kneel alone in darkness there,
And battle with some fierce despair.
God pity those who cannot say,
"Not mine but Thine"; who only pray
"Let this cup pass," and cannot see
The PURPOSE in Gethsemane.

Although I feel that I am now able to say "Not my will, but thine be done" I am still upset. I was shocked that when explaining to the instructor how personal a lesson this was I totally lost it. I don't think I had cried that hard since my hair has fallen out. I know I needed to do it, but it still shocked the heck out of me. Yesterday, and most of today for that matter, have been really hard. I no longer pray that my hair return, I pray for the strength to deal with whatever comes from this, but I still want my darn hair back.
I have been really angry today - angry that here I am at eighteen forced to come to love myself again. I feel that I have just come to understand and love me for being me and here I am struggling to do that all over again. I am so thankful that I am not sick, and yes this offers me solace, but sometimes I feel that by repeating this to myself over and over I am not fully valuing my feelings of hurt and loss.
I know that each day gets easier, and for the most part I love not having hair, but I really surprised myself with how much it hurt to last night to talk about being bald.