My Story

Five and a half years ago, this was me:





I was about to turn 25, I had a beautiful baby girl, and I had a full head of hair. By the time my daughter was eight months old, I had such thin hair and such a big bald spot that I never left the house without something on my head:





What happened?! Women lose hair all the time in the shower, in the sink when brushing, pulling it out at work, etc. Normally when a woman is pregnant, she gets super silky, thick hair. And she doesn't lose any. Then, after the baby is born and her hormones are readjusting, she can lose tons of hair at once, almost like making up for all that hair that didn't come out during the pregnancy. I figured I had a bad case of postpartum hair loss. One grumpy old crackpot of a dermatologist told me I had something called alopecia areata, and that it had nothing to do with my recent childbirth. He said he could tell because I was losing my hair in circular patches. He said I could possible end up losing all the hair on my head and body. What a quack!

To prove he was a quack, the spots filled in and my hair started growing back. I embraced my short look, knowing that it was only temporary:






My hair grew in, with blonde highlights this time around (go figure), and I put the whole experience behind me.





Well, it turns out the crackpot doctor was right. When my daughter was two I started losing hair again. Fast. I saw a new dermatologist--and got the confirmation that I had an autoimmune disorder called alopecia. As the hair on my head started getting patchier and thinner, I asked my husband to shave my head for me. I wish I had pictures of that evening. I was terrified, but it was actually a very freeing experience. I felt good about myself--until I lost my eyebrows and eyelashes, too. There's something about those features that really make a face, and without them I feel slightly less than human. At this point I don't have the nerve to post a picture of myself with no makeup--but I will get there.

For the past three and a half years I have experimented with lots of different "looks".

Turbans:











Bandanas:










Wigs:











And, my personal favorites, scarves and headwraps of all lengths, designs and colors:






So that's my story. Basically. Bald photos soon to come, I promise. I actually feel (almost) ready to go get a professional photo shoot of me in my skin. Maybe if Reese Witherspoon does it first...

Headlines

I have a Yahoo! email account. Every time I go to the home page I see these photos with taglines meant to get me clicking and reading, clicking and reading. They fall into two major categories--the first type is a blurred still shot from a video (which makes you want to actually watch the video) with a line that gives you just enough info to be intrigued. "See why this woman is waving her arms at the top of a building". OOh...I've gotta see what that's about.

The second type of photo, the one I want to talk about, is typically a head shot of a gorgeous female celebrity with a tagline like this: "So-and-so stuns fans with a bold new hair color" or "See the look that has everyone talking". Wow, that must be some photo. I better go look.

Today the teasers were about Salma Hayek's cleavage and Reese Witherspoon's new hairstyle. (Interestingly, I took a peek at the photo of Salma, not Reese.)

So at the start of my day I have these images in my head, along with the message that these "looks" are to be desired. I know, this is nothing new. But it just hit me today that I have really been brainwashed. I have been told that I look beautiful by lots of friends, family members, and the occasional creepy guy at the grocery store. But those comments don't really help me see myself as desirable. Why? Because on a global scale, I start every day with the reminder that to be categorically beautiful to "everyone" you need to look a certain way. It's the Barbie way, still after all these years. Skinny waist, big chest, long hair and make up.

Wow--when you see it written out like that, doesn't it just sound boring?

So what should I do--change my email provider so I don't see Yahoo's home screen everyday? I must say, having an iPhone has helped with that. But the messages are, of course, everywhere. How do I stop letting them penetrate so deep? How do I give myself a new "brainwashing"?

There are verses in the Bible about how God sees us and created us to be beautiful and unique and treasured. But I have to admit, those verses don't carry the weight that a single billboard does.

So...I am asking you, readers, to help me think of an aggressive, combative strategy to fight in this war on my inner sense of beauty. Design an ad or billboard; write a message I can put on my fridge; start a Facebook movement. Let's try to change the headlines.

Tints

It's all about how we view our world. The color of the shades drawn over our eyes, the color of the glass we are squinting out of. None of us are free from tinted filters. When I lost my hair, I was on one side of the glass where everything was drab, flesh-colored. I mean my flesh. The color of Caucasian skin that has not seen sun. Not translucent, but definitely that humiliating color of paste. The world one the other side seemed to have so much color. Flowing reds, flax and golden waves, onyx black. You get the idea. Hair. Everyone had it and it was so colorful and long and soft. Feminine. Attractive. Healthy.

Now I see the entire world, with me in it, through different filters depending on my circumstances. Today the world is pink. Soft on a foggy winter's day that feels like spring, relaxed and hopeful. And I feel classy, feminine. In the 5 years that I have been dealing with Alopecia Universalis, I have come to at least see the world without a glass partition cutting me off from everyone else. Even if my world is colored (sometimes a melancholy blue, sometimes a cliche envious green, sometimes a forbidden red), it is a world I can move around in without shame.