Embracing What is
Two weeks ago, Steve and I woke up early on a Monday morning and flew to Los Angeles. We had an appointment at Milano Wigs which is famously known for supplying beautiful wigs to people who have lost their hair. I had canceled a previous appointment in July when I was feeling low and desperately wanted to cancel this one, too. I really did not want to go. I’m at a weird juxtaposition, where my hair has thinned but I have not lost it all. I can pass for someone not in chemo. I may have thin hair but I’m not completely bald.
When we arrived at the store (in Beverly Hills, LOL!), we were whisked to the back where we met with our wig specialist. She was so kind and seemed so at ease working with someone who has hair issues. I immediately felt comfortable. I showed her pictures of me, when I was having my best hair days. (Visiting Claire at Bard, dancing at Hardly Strictly Bluegrass Concert, moments of course when I was very very happy.) She found a straight haired-blonde wig that most closely resembled my natural hair. It was wonderful to see myself with a full head of hair. Just by being seen by this lovely woman and with Steve by my side, it almost made the wig irrelevant. I almost didn’t even buy the damn wig!
Why am I so hung up on losing my hair? Hair is so tied up to my identity even though I know that my strength, resilience and the person I am on the inside are far more important than my external appearance. I don't know if you remember my story about losing my hair in Tennessee Valley when I was first diagnosed with breast cancer 18 years ago? Anyway, I put a lot of energy and emotion into my hair.
When Steve and I got back that day from Los Angeles, my daughter, Claire, reassured me that my wig looked fine (Mom it looks great!) and that I did not need to worry about whether people knew I was wearing a wig or not. She basically reassured me that there was no stigma attached to wearing a wig.
So yeah, I bought a wig. I think I look great in it, but ironically I have not even put it on. But I’m glad I have it. And at any time when I feel the need to, I can place it on my head and fling my blonde locks around.
When you see me, feel free to ask me about the state of my hair. I have my moments but I’m feeling a little more liberated from concern about my thinning hair. Sometimes it’s helpful just to know that my wig is sitting on my bathroom counter.
And it is helpful to know you are there for me, too. Thank you for reading my stories.
Last week I went by myself to Maine to visit my cousin and aunt. (See photo above) I didn't even bring the wig with me!
