Friday was my hardest emotional day so far. I knew shaving my head would be hard, but I did not expect a full day event. In the hairdresser’s chair I could not stop crying. We started with a longer pixie, and slowly went shorter and shorter. Since I was not handling it well, she suggested we leave it as a super short pixie, and allow myself the weekend to let it all sink it. For the rest of the day the slightest thought about my hair would make me cry uncontrollably. Then like nothing happened, Saturday I woke up fine. I was now starting to become comfortable in this new skin.
I knew the pixie was just a transitional cut. Underneath the headband was all bald patches. I had a feeling shaving my head would be so freeing. Getting over the hurdle was what I was scared of. It seems easier to other people. Everyone says, “Oh it’s just hair, it will grow back.”. That is very easy to say when it is not your hair. My sadness was over the loss of control. This was something I HAD to do, not something I chose to do.
A few weeks back by buddy shaved his head for me. He messaged me on Sunday letting me know he liked my pixie and that his head was due for another shave. I told him the pixie was not sticking around, so he said “Ok, why don’t you shave mine and then I will shave yours.”. Sounded like a perfect plan. So tonight, in his backyard, we shaved our heads.
I now feel back in control. Also, the breeze is wonderful. š
You are the truest definition of brave. Not JUST because you shaved your head. But because you’re battling the toughest of all shit, and I’m so proud of you. I know you don’t like to hear it, but it’s another kind of “hard” on the other side not being able to just take it all away for you. So G.I. Jamie, you get on out there and rage war! Love ya darling!