A couple of years ago, my hair started to fall out. Each time I passed my hands through my hair, I had more than just a few hairs in them, no, handfulls came out. Brushing was even worse, same as washing. What was left kept thinning and breaking, and short hair wasn’t much better.
So I shaved it off.Taking the trimmer into my own hands and starting to shave it off was strange, and took some courage. But seeing the short hair cut with the thin spots and more or less bald spots, and hair coming out also got on my nerves. When I was done, seeing myself in the miror like that for the first time was definitely a shock.
In the beginning it was somewhat weird, but now I’m not only used to it, but I like it – even if sometimes some people have a strange look, like at a new church, people were a first critical and questioning as to why I have no hair, or my mother who was afraid that I didn’t look enough feminine.True, sometimes the questions were a bit bothersome, or was getting called ‘Sir’ in stores or on the street. But now I don’t mind the questions anymore, and I just smile or laugh the ‘Sirs’ away.
But, it’s me, no hiding, I am who I am. Why should anyone have to hide? We are all beautiful, unique, strong… just the way we are.