@BigFashionista recently published a post called 'Do you know you are beautiful?' asking which bit of your body you liked the most.
For me it's my hair. It's the one part of my body I've consistently loved about myself throughout my adult life. I've been lucky to have been blessed with beautifully coloured, thick hair. My practical bob, which fluctuated in length over the years has served me well. I didn't have to think about it. It was low maintenance and was just 'there'
I'm on a drugs trial and one possible side effect is thinning hair or loss, so I was prepared. It's a blind study, the more reported side effects, the more likelihood I'm not in the placebo group. Therefore side effects are good.
When I showed 'the signs' a few weeks ago, I went into my typical practical mode and kept an eye open for scarves at knockdown prices (shopping! Yes!) and You Tubed how to wear them.
I noticed my hairy legs weren't as hairy as before. In fact it had been six weeks between shaves. Result!! When I went for a hair cut, my hairdresser commented my fringe wasn't as long as usual, and the beautician tactfully mentioned I had missing eyelashes.(Yes! Think of the money I would save!)
So I was ready and it was ok. I would still be the same person, just smoother!
The eyebrows 'went AWOL' next which prompted me to create the hashtag #thankgoodnessforafringe
I lost hair in other 'places' too (blushes) But hey, got to be a bonus in here somewhere. I sure as hell wasn't getting the side effect I wanted, the losing weight due to lack of appetite (I know, I'm shallow)
So I was ready when my head hair started to thin. The plug hole was more disgusting than usual. People commented my hair was changing colour. Yes, it was changing to 'shade of scalp!!!!!' And then it accelerated to this
I was organised and 'sorted'. I had scarves, I knew how to tie them and been wearing them for a while. The next step was to take control and cut it short. It's taken a few days, but I've finally taken the plunge. To be honest, I was fed up with finding it everywhere it shouldn't be (plughole, pillow, settee, in my food, stitched up in my crochet projects, rolling like a tumbleweed along the hallway)
Thank goodness MrC refused to cut it ( although deep down I think he was looking forward to giving me a mohican! ) and made me go to my hairdresser. Because she performed a miracle and has created this!
The bald spot is still there, I'm just rocking the best comb over ever!
I got into the car and cried. I may have thought I was organised and sorted. But it wasn't until the cut which left me feeling pretty again, did it dawn just how much my hair meant to me and how I wasn't ready for it.
I'd taken it for granted.
It had defined me.
My miracle worker has given me a bit more time to get used to things.
And I can also eat my dinner without the added fibre!