From Hair to There …

January 23, 2017 (reposted from January 4, 2017 – system glitch!)

And so it goes.

Here I am, fourth day into this new year, the lobster is crawling around the dining room table (metaphorically speaking only) and raring to get started on this writing/chronicling journey. And it just dawned on me … I have much in common with said lobster.

My exoskeleton is not as hardened but I am as hairless … you see, on Saturday – prior to the ringing in of the New Year – I shaved my head.

And so it goes.

From hair to … there.

No, I have not gone off the deep end nor am I physically sick. The usually dreary NW with it’s soul-withering gray and wet days has not turned me into a lunatic nor have I lost any of my marbles. I’ve counted; I have them all.

This is merely a challenge to myself … an exercise in research (for this blog/and a book I’m working on) and a few hundred lessons in humility and self love and acceptance and being in someone else’s shoes. For how are we ever to know someone else’s journey if we do not experience or share it?

This was not one of those ideas that popped into my head and I said lightly, “Oh, yeah, I think I’ll bald myself for New Year’s.” It was a slow morphing of chats and magazine articles read and (as I’ll relay along the way) a culmination of things that brought about an “aha” moment and it just felt like the right thing to do.

I’ve never had great hair … I’ve had long hair in high school which when wet looked like a brown shoelace trailing down my back. So, yes, I’ve had length but not volume.  Unless it was humid out! And for as long as I can remember, I’ve had a love-hate relationship with whatever was on my head. So, this wasn’t as hard for me as it might have been for others.

I’ve had friends and a husband who have lost their hair to cancer treatments. And, along the way, I told all of them when they were faced with losing their locks, “It’s just hair! It’ll grow back!” My girlfriends confided that they’d rather lose their breasts than their hair. It was unfathomable to me. They’re not like starfish that can grow a new limb! Hair grew back, breasts didn’t! What was the big deal?

And yet – when my son, Ted, shaved my husband’s head during treatment, it was devastating to me. I was the photographer of the event … putting on a smiling face during the shaving … and when it was done I went across the street and sat in the park and cried myself silly. I knew that Tim wouldn’t live long enough for his hair (he had gorgeous hair) to grow back in. For me, his hair represented so much more than just hair. 

How hypocritical of me to feel one thing and tell others something else?

Hence, part of my reasoning to shave. And, since for the last 40 some years (or more) I’ve been fighting with the 17 cowlicks on my head and the baby fine strands that would not give up their will to do whatever for any amount of mousse, gel, pomade, or spray … when the razor went over my head and the hair came off, I had a certain amount of “Take that!” vengeful satisfaction.

Oddly, I was fine with the process (a little tender-headed, but fine) and not emotional for myself, but I couldn’t help thinking about those who had gone this path before me and what this must have meant and been like for them. Instantly I could tell how crushing this would have been … instantly.

So, here I am. I know it’s different doing this under the reason of choice rather than necessity. And yet I am grateful for the opportunity I’ve given myself to experience this loss (of hair) first-hand and to see how this feels even though I know it is vastly different for all those others who had no choice. However, it’s a step closer to understanding.

And I think life, in general, would be easier/nicer for all of us if we took a little time to understand something we didn’t.

So, come along with me on this journey … pop in and see how I’m coming to terms with the baldness, the social aspects, the personal acceptance, the cold and other things along the way!

I do know one thing … I look far more like Mr. Potato Head than I ever imagined possible! Which isn’t all bad … I’m rather fond of potatoes!

And so it goes …

 

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