And then there was none

Hair that is.
ALL gone.
No guard on the clippers, kind of gone.
Even did part of it myself.

I don't think that any amount of reading or talking could have made me understand what it means to lose your hair this way. Let's start with the physical. It makes some sort of sense that if you are trying to get rid of fast growing cancer cells that other fast growing cells will also be effected. BUT the fact that it actually hurts your head being there is indescribable (as in weird, not excruciating). I just wanted it off my head, it hurt all day. "How does your hair hurt?" you ask. It pokes you when it has fallen out of your scalp, but not off your head. Its like getting your regular haircut and not being able to change your shirt. Itchy and uncomfortable all over.

Then there is the emotional part. I have been known to gawk and stare (just this side of drooling) at more than my fair share of bald young hotties. Seriously, there is something about a close cropped coif that does it. BUT that image is eternally attached to a MAN.

(ooooo lost my train of thought, too many images----ok, back on track)

I don't usually think of myself as having huge image issues. There are those ups and downs that hit everyone occasionally that I can't help, but as a general rule I've been pretty content with my adult self. But suddenly I find myself avoiding mirrors. At first, it was just the haircut I didn't really want. Then it was the GI Jane, OMG I look like a boy..... I was just starting to get used to seeing exactly how broad my shoulders are and how brown my eyes are. Now the avoidance is not so much because I don't like what I see, but rather because I don't know who it is that I see. The short hair was a woman who could be sick and teach. GI Jane was gaining strength as a mom and pretending to just be that much of a badass that she shaved her hair off. Bald simply screams, "Cancer patient."

Me:"I don't like this role, I don't like that anyone can see it, and I don't like that I can't pretend everything is ok when I want to."
(uproarious laughter, snort)
Myself: "You stupid girl, you have let everyone see it right here. Hell, you have let people feel it right along with you. That is absurd to think that you can/will/want to hide."
Me: But those who have found me here are the same people who would know that I rarely answer "how are you doing?" with "good." They know me well enough to know that I don't hide much from those who care enough to ask, but prefer for strangers to think I have my shit together.
Myself: That's dumb.
I: There is no choice to be made here, it doesn't matter what you want or what you like. Keep putting one foot in front of the other and find the new path. Every person who is now a friend was once a stranger. So perhaps the strangers you meet tomorrow will become new friends you can't live without.
Myself: Suck it up Buttercup.