Oh, Hello Baldy!

I still catch a reflection of myself and have a moment of surprise.

It happens every morning when I briefly glance in the mirror.  I immediately think "oh! I'm bald! I forgot that" and then I smile and say (often out loud) to myself "hello baldy!"

I feel extremely lucky those moments of surprise aren’t accompanied with a feeling of sadness or loss.  They honestly aren’t.  Just a point of remembering that my appearance has changed a huge amount, since I took back control of my hair loss and shaved my head at the end of January.

It’s been an extraordinary few months.

I’ve been fascinated about how having a visible difference changes how people react to me.  I recently met someone face to face who I had only spoken to online previously.  I went to say hello with a little caution as I wasn’t sure if she’d recognise me, so I introduced myself with a slightly mumbled “not sure if you remember me” line.  She gave me a shocked look and said “of course I remember you, Sarah!” with a little glance up at my head.  It was a reaction I’ve never experienced before and it took me aback.

Of course!

I’d definitely remember a bald woman too.  There aren’t too many of us about!

Now, I get for some people this might be the last thing they want to happen to them.  But for me… I was elated!  I’ve never been so visible before.  And memorable.  That feels really blooming good, especially coming at a time in my life when women all too often become more invisible.  My baldness gives me opportunity.

I’ve always felt I’ve yet to reach my prime; that it’s somewhere off in the future when I will truly step into my own as a fabulous wise old woman.  Now I get to move towards that more visibly and with that, more intentionally.  That is a hugely empowering feeling.

I appreciate this is at odds with how a lot of people might feel about losing their hair.  The ones who give me kind, supportive but pitying smiles.  There’s nothing I can really do to stop that pity: that’s their choice and their paradigm deciding that a bald woman is something to be kindly sad about.  I accept their kindness but will forge on positively, regardless, I guess.

The big elephant in the room around all this, though, is the fact a lot of people assume I’m gravely ill and that I’ve lost my hair because of cancer treatment.  There’s a little positive smile I give strangers which (to me) communicates the message “it’s ok, I’m fine, all is healthy and well here!”.  Although the inane grin I’m giving out might just as easily be read as “I’m totally unhinged”.  I sometimes get the giggles now when I catch myself doing the don’t-worry-I’m-not-ill happy look.  

That grin is shared with my teen/tweenage sons.  They both use it too when they catch the eye of an older person in the street.  For them the message is “it’s ok, old person, I’m not a nasty youngster and I’m not about to mug you”.  

It’s become a bit of a running joke between the three of us, as we’re all the sort who will go out of our way to reassure others that all is good, so those grins get fired off multiple times a day.  

The pitying or concern for my health reaction does mean I have the upper hand in choosing how an interaction with a new person will go: you really do get to control the narrative and I’ve found people to be far more cheery and willing to go along with my level of enthusiasm than before which is nice. I’ve got to admit, though, the cancer assumption is a little bit wearying.  

I can do something about that.  By raising awareness of alopecia through talking about it a lot, I can help educate people not to immediately assume baldness = chemotherapy.

Alopecia Awareness month has just happened in September and whilst I didn’t do anything impressive like running a marathon (let’s face it, that ain’t ever gonna happen), I did do a daily post on instagram with the hashtag #baldyinthewild to share the idea that normal life can continue and I’m quite happy doing my thing, I just happen to be bald.  

If you were one of the many lovely folk who donated to my fundraiser for that, a very heartfelt thank you.  I’m proud to have raised around £450 (including gift aid) for Alopecia UK. 

It’s jolly nice to be able to give something back to them.  Without their informative website and their incredibly supportive facebook group, I would have felt a lot more lost.  They are a tiny charity who do some great work. 

These days, I’ve reached a stage where I wonder if I’ll be disappointed if my hair came back.  In some ways, I think I would be.  Mainly, I resist wanting that because it would bring back the need to check for hair loss as there's no guarantee it'll stay and I definitely don’t want to do that checking ever again.  I’m currently doing all I can to try to keep my eyelashes and eyebrows as other body hair is deciding to jump ship.  That reminder of checking for patches isn’t pleasant at all.  Neither is losing your ear, nose and eye hair - that stuff is really blooming useful! 

At the risk of TMI, but it’s so funny I really do need to share, I’ve had some hair loss down below, but in true alopecia style, it hasn’t fallen out in a good way.  Oh no.  I’ve just got a bald patch in the middle of my lady garden.  Like a reverse brazilian.  It’s utterly ridiculous and I’m calling it The Monk.

Joking aside, I’m not sure I’d want my old hair back and lose my current visibility.  I’ve gained a superpower here which I’m reluctant to relinquish and that, lovely readers, is a pretty wonderful place to be.

Here’s a link to the fabulous Alopecia UK if you’re seeking any support or would just like to become a bit more knowledgeable about it all.