so. my hair.
i shaved it allllll off. yeah i did!!
here’s the deal. my hair was coming out in handfuls since my second chemo treatment, and i have an obsessive personality, to a point.
so, hair loss + a bit of o.c.d = me constantly raking my hands through my hair, wondering how MUCH would fall out the next time i shampooed. then, when i actually DID shower i would wash and re-wash my hair until the water ran cold, watching my hair clog the drain. i’d clean that mess up, and move on to blow-drying my hair, which took longer than usual, because i’d have to stop and clean out the sink full of hair. fun times.
5 days. that’s all i could take. it was juuuuuuust long enough to make me snap. i called the hubby into our bathroom and held out my hands filled with a nest of hair, and said, “i’m ready to let this go.”
my heart was pounding, i was nauseated and jittery just thinking about what this statement MEANT. i had been recovering from an unfortunate mullet for more than a year and had just grown my hair long enough to get it into tiny dog-ears. i did NOT want to lose my hair. i did NOT want to do this.
but, i hated the alternative even more– letting my hair loss become my focus. letting the number of hair follicles on my head determine if i was happy or sad. seriously, how lame is THAT.
i can get fixed on how i look very fast, homeskillets.
remember, i’m the girl that rocks a gimpy arm and leg. i’m the girl that battles both acne and wrinkles on a month-to-month basis. i have my issues, real or imagined, and i know my mind can become a place of nasty with a quickness.
i truly love who i am. i love how God made me. it’s taken me a long time to not operate out of a place of protection, and to not put my worth in other’s opinion of me. so, i wasn’t gonna let hair or the lack of hair get me tangled up–(get it– hair/tangled?! super cheesy perfection)– no matter how scary shaving my head seemed.
the hubby was on board, and we wanted to make sure we included thing 1 and thing 2. i explained that the cancer-fighting medicine was working really well, one of the ways we could tell was because my hair was coming out, and since it was happening anyway, i had decided to shave my head.
i could tell this was a lot to take in. so, i said,
“the enemy can use a simple thing like hair to distract me from what God has done– we found the tumor early, i had it removed, and He has brought so many people around us while we walk through this step. i can either focus on the loss of my hair or focus on God’s goodness and provision. i choose God. “
i don’t know if they fully understood, but i pray years from now, when life hits hard, they’ll l have this moment to help them decide to choose God, too.
it was time. the clippers were ready. and, there was no turning back. i was soooooooo scared. thankfully, an awesome ‘skillet brought a cupcake and a bottle of wine. she documented the event, and cheered me on.
my hubby was amazing. truly. he was so sweet, so gentle, and very loving through the whole sheering process. i love the picture of him working on my fade… awesome. i didn’t realize how intimate a process it would be. i’m so glad it was a quiet moment with a wonderful sista friend and my man.
the whole process took about 20 minutes. more than a years worth of awkward hair stages– gone, in 20 minutes.
i went to the bathroom and got the first glimpse of my melon.
my head felt so light i thought it might float right off my body. i saw my brother’s face staring back at me, in drag.
it. was. freaky.
after the initial shock, i felt totally rockin’.
hardcore. to. the. max.
free from the fear of what could happen.
free to focus on the GREAT moments and people all around me.
free to focus on the good days.
God has used a simple hairdo to give me more freedom and strength for the 10 more chemo treatments ahead– which, for me, has put a whole new spin on Philippians 4:13:
i can ‘do all things through Christ who strengthens me.
(get it– hairdo/’do?! i kill me!!)