I was text chatting or otherwise known as 'texting'(wait, what..how old have I got?) a lovely friend today on the subject of hair. I'm lucky, she happens to really dig short hair styles and frequently sends me style ideas. I've been watching my hair grow eagerly in the anticipation of our girls day in a months time when I'm hoping to have it cut. Although I think maybe styled maybe a more realistic goal.
She mentioned I should document my hair re-growth in styles. When she mentioned this it seem really rather obvious. Of course I should, I've documented every other side of this journey, opened up about all sorts on this webpage but my hair journey has somehow feels so exposing.
Naturally is is physically exposing, there's no feminine hair to stroke behind the ear or wisps of hair to frame around the face. It also felt exposing in terms of holding the 'cancer label'and lets face it, nobody wants that label. I didn't loose sleep over loosing my hair, but I was very aware of the effect it had on others. Particularly family, Nick. Treatment was on the most part a relief, I did well. I got up every single morning as usual, dressed and applied blusher, concealer and lipstick. I looked and acted normal, or as normal as I get. That was, until my hair thinned beyond saving.
One evening, about a month after I finished chemo, I accepted I needed to start afresh with my hair. I was fine with this, I was happy watching the remains of my hair get cut to about 1cm long. It was a relief, until Nick walked in, his face fell and with it his guard. I think for him this was one of those moments where reality checks in and you're momentarily lost. I saw all the emotion on his face, he was sad and I could see a little pity and pain. Then he was back, smiling and stroking my furry head. Maybe it was him seeing me so strong and happy whilst completely exposed allowed him to drop his guard, which he rarely does. My guard then became my wig. Not because of Nick's reaction but because I love it. It's styled and easy. I can hide happily under my luscious locks. I love it so much it never occurred to me that I could stop wearing it. I still wear it, I'm wearing it now but I decided I want to photo journal my hair as it is. Exposed and all.
She mentioned I should document my hair re-growth in styles. When she mentioned this it seem really rather obvious. Of course I should, I've documented every other side of this journey, opened up about all sorts on this webpage but my hair journey has somehow feels so exposing.
Naturally is is physically exposing, there's no feminine hair to stroke behind the ear or wisps of hair to frame around the face. It also felt exposing in terms of holding the 'cancer label'and lets face it, nobody wants that label. I didn't loose sleep over loosing my hair, but I was very aware of the effect it had on others. Particularly family, Nick. Treatment was on the most part a relief, I did well. I got up every single morning as usual, dressed and applied blusher, concealer and lipstick. I looked and acted normal, or as normal as I get. That was, until my hair thinned beyond saving.
One evening, about a month after I finished chemo, I accepted I needed to start afresh with my hair. I was fine with this, I was happy watching the remains of my hair get cut to about 1cm long. It was a relief, until Nick walked in, his face fell and with it his guard. I think for him this was one of those moments where reality checks in and you're momentarily lost. I saw all the emotion on his face, he was sad and I could see a little pity and pain. Then he was back, smiling and stroking my furry head. Maybe it was him seeing me so strong and happy whilst completely exposed allowed him to drop his guard, which he rarely does. My guard then became my wig. Not because of Nick's reaction but because I love it. It's styled and easy. I can hide happily under my luscious locks. I love it so much it never occurred to me that I could stop wearing it. I still wear it, I'm wearing it now but I decided I want to photo journal my hair as it is. Exposed and all.
maybe an inch? 2 months after my treatment finished
 |  |
There's this one funky bit at the back which just wont stick down.
RSS Feed