My mother instilled in us the belief that true beauty lies within, not on the surface. I am grateful for her wisdom in teaching us to see beyond appearances and into the depths of people's hearts and souls. Our essence is defined by our character, our capacity for growth, our ability to heal, and our capacity to love others. We are more than just our physical attributes; my appearance may have changed, but so has my inner self. I now view the world through a different lens. Losing my hair has broadened my perspective in ways I never imagined. It serves as a reminder of the fragility of life, a visible symbol of my struggles and strength as I navigate this journey of transformation.
As I settled into the plush spinning chair, I gazed at my reflection in the mirror above the makeup table. A cape enveloped me, adding a touch of anticipation to the air. Thoughts of the approaching year swirled in my mind, mingling with the anxiety of what lay ahead. With nimble fingers and an expert touch, the hairstylist deftly divided my ginger locks into sections, securing them with a gentle rubber band. With effortless grace, each braid was severed, one by one. As I watched, my hair transformed into a neat collection destined for a greater purpose. It would soon find its way into the hands of a charity, where it would be transformed into wigs for children bravely battling cancer.
Around the third session of chemotherapy, my scalp began to feel burning. Despite having already shaved my head, some sparse strands of hair remained, which eventually started to fall out. While it wasn't a dramatic shedding, the feeling of those short, auburn hairs on my hand as I touched my head was poignant, leaving me feeling helpless and stripped of autonomy.
Over time, I lost my eyebrows, eyelashes, and all body hair. Rather than dwell on the downside, I viewed it as an opportunity for positive change. Embracing my baldness helped me shed light on the blood cancer I was battling and forge stronger bonds with those around me.