What is it about hair?

“Nothing makes a woman more beautiful than the belief that she is beautiful.” Sophia Loren

Since starting my cancer journey, I’ve lost my hair multiple times, once because of chemo treatments, then again because of all over brain radiation, and now its slowly falling out like the pines on a dehydrated Christmas tree because of the mild chemo I’m on.

Each time bringing up different feelings of emotions and causing me to have to look inward and redefine my beauty. The first time I had fun cutting it and rocking my pink mohawk. It was the first time I ever cut, bleached, and dyed my hair. It was exciting. But I always had some peach fuzz, so I never felt bald. After all, over brain radiation, I made it through all ten treatments and to my Christmas party with my hair. Then it started falling out. I decided to take things into my own hands, and instead of seeing if it would stay in, I decided to get it cut to focus on growth instead of a loss. This meant being 100% bald for one of my best friends' wedding and my first time being brides made. I wanted nothing more than to have hair that day—something I almost let my hair ruin for me. I cried, it was emotional for me, but with my friends' and families' genuine support, love, and confidence-boosting, I felt like a beautiful bald badass.

What is it about hair that has so much power over us? The more woman I’ve meant through cancer, I would say more than 50% of the time, the hardest part of their journey has been hair loss and the overall change in their body - chemo-induced acne, the weight gain, or weight loss, and the new scars. Essentially creating a new person. Cancer undoubtedly is going to cause change on the outside. The hidden beauty in this all is the inner work it does too. Not easy by any means, but embracing this as a time to look inward, in my opinion, is how you make it through this time of change.

Before cancer, I had long thick dirty blonde hair I loved. A good hair day dictated a lot about my mood, my outfit, and it defined me. I’m 5’10, have always been slim and fit. I grew up with people always telling me I should model, blah blah blah. I never saw it. But it gave me a certain confidence. I felt like that was stripped from me once I lost my hair (and my butt.) Never would I ever voluntarily cut my hair all off, let alone past my shoulders back then. Long hair, to me, was a symbol of beauty—something you needed to be sexy. What I didn’t know is women cut their hair all the time. I was shocked when the lady cutting my hair when I got my pink mohawk said a woman came in earlier that week to cut off and donated 12 inches of hair and got a pixie cut. I admired her confidence and desire to change so much.

Today I cried because I just missed my hair. My safety blanket. Ever try dating while balding, losing your eyebrows and eyelashes, and while on chemo in the middle of a pandemic that could kill you? No? You should give it a try (eye roll.) But honestly, hair should be the least of my worries right now, but its what I miss the most. I will say while I miss it, I’m not letting it hold me back. Anyone that is going to think less of you or judge you because of your physical changes isn’t worth your time. Let me be the first to tell you to let those people go faster than coronavirus updates.

What has made these changes easier is I’ve grounded myself around the fact that it’s all temporary. Hair grows back. You’ll have awkward stages but embrace it. Take pictures; it’ll never look like it does at that moment ever again. One day you’ll be grateful you have those photos to look back on after you kicked so much ass and are on the other side of cancer or simply to see how much you’ve grown and changed. The acne clears up eventually do your best not to pick at it, or the scars will stick around. The weight will come and go, and you’ll probably have four different wardrobes by the end of it.

These changes don’t define you. How you grow and embrace these changes will. While so much is changing with treatments and surgeries, don’t let these things bring down your mood and slow down your healing. Make the best of it!

Embrace hats and hair accessories, but don’t hide behind them. Allow this change to bring laughter or tears in your life, but don’t dwell on it without taking the time to see what it’s bringing up inside. Journal about it. For me, it was that my outside beauty was a measure of my worthiness and acceptance. Thanks to cancer, not the case anymore!