Friday, February 3, 2012


My hair has been falling out for the last 4 years.  

I've tried to hide it.  I haven't talked about it.  I've spent thousands - I don't want to think how many thousands - trying to stop it.

I've told myself it's my fault.  That if I took better care of myself, that if I didn't worry so much.  That if I ate better/was a better-rounded human being/lived life PROPERLY, this wouldn't happen. 

But in the last few weeks, I've begun to question the validity of that statement.  How is it my fault?  How can something be your fault when you're trying your best?  How can you do anything other than your best?

I also told myself I was being vain for caring so much.  It's just hair, right?  That there are far worse problems in the world.  And, of course, there are far worse reasons to be losing your hair. 

I wish I could say it worked, or that I was above this.  But in recent months, I've accepted that I'm not.  I feel crappy about the way I look.  I take less care of my appearance, because I think, "Why bother?"  

I knew there were options.  But to me, they were embarrassing.  It's amazing, the power of hair.  In our society, women are encouraged to paint their faces, stick silicone in their boobs, starve themselves senseless and don footwear that makes walking either unpleasant or nearly impossible.  But for some reason, replacing your hair is embarrassing.  It's something we don't want anyone to know about.  Hair is meant to be natural - even if it's had the shit dyed out of it.  We go crazy for hair, as if its owner has achieved some kind of monumental thing, growing it herself through sheer determination and intelligence.

In fact, that's how we treat beauty in general.  But that's another story.

I don't know why I'm losing my hair.  And I'm still resolved to find out.  But in the meantime, I've decided: I can choose not to be above this.  If if I can add something to my physical appearance that is not harmful to my body, and feel more confident about the way I look, then what's stopping me?

So today, I looked for a wig.  

Actually, it's not a wig, it's called a topper, which is already a hideous name.  I mean, why couldn't they call it an "accent," or a "hair embellishment"?  


You can sleep in it.  

You can shower in it.  

You can, to my delight, even swim in it.

I'm still not sure if I'm going to do this.  But I'm seriously thinking about it. 


  1. You are so hard non yourself. I think you're beautiful!

  2. Oh, Erik. I think *you're* beautiful.