For as long as I can remember, I’ve always had at least one or two small bald spots on my head. They would show up randomly and eventually grow back in, sometimes within a couple of months and sometimes after a year or even two. My hair has always been thick and long and no one ever noticed--a lot of the time I didn’t even notice. I’d part my hair a different way or clip it up in sections to blow dry it and see a patch with peach fuzz growing in and realize for the first time that I must have been losing some hair.
Then 2020 came, and in March when COVID hit, I felt unusually high levels of stress. I’ve always been an anxious person who would often worry about the future and struggle with uncertainty, but pulling our daughter out of school and quitting the part-time job that I loved and trying to suddenly adjust to a world outside of our house that felt very dangerous threw me for a loop, and then because my husband was able to work from home and our life actually wasn’t affected as much as many others, I started to feel guilty about my anxiety as well. Life wasn’t that hard, what right did I have to be stressed out? Cue more stress and the cycle would just continue from there.
What used to be a few strands here and there turned into handfuls of hair that would fall out every time I washed or brushed or put my hair up. And then in June or July I noticed a new bald spot, on the left side of my head by my ear. It was a different shape than they usually are, but I didn’t think too much of it. I figured with the stress I was feeling, a new bald spot or two was inevitable. We started planning a move and then I had a miscarriage, and for a few weeks my life started to feel out of control.
And sure enough, instead of slowly growing in, over the weeks the spot grew larger; and then another one similar to it popped up on the other side of my head. I remember looking in the mirror in August or September and telling Rob “I think I’m going to lose all my hair this time, it just seems really different.” By the time we got to Charlotte in early October I noticed a third spot, right at my part in the center of my head. And from there they just grew, until the entire left side of my hair was missing, and the right side was right behind it. My hairline was changing and it was getting harder and harder to cover up.
In October I decided to get a wig, because I wasn’t sure how long it would take me to find something and I knew that if it got worse I was going to need something to get me through it. It was overwhelming to try to find something online so I looked up a local wig salon and went in to try some things on in person—if you’re going through something similar, I can’t recommend this route more. It was so validating to talk to someone who was familiar with both wigs and hair loss, and being able to try on wigs and learn how to style and care for them was great. The owner of the salon even cut my “signature” bangs so it felt even more natural, and I couldn’t be happier with how it looks.
Even with a fabulous wig and as much perspective as I can muster, this entire thing has been more heartbreaking than I would like to admit. It’s a huge adjustment, and I am still really upset about it even months later. I have since lost almost 100% of the hair on my head, which was my fear from the beginning. In some ways it’s nice to know that it really can’t get much worse from here, but I also can’t help but obsess over whether or not this is my new normal forever.
I thought I’d gather my often very random thoughts about hair loss and wearing a wig bullet-style below to try to share some of the things I’ve been feeling and thinking about lately:
Things I miss:
Throwing my hair up into a top knot. I love wearing my hair like that and it used to be my go-to quick style for working out or hanging around the house.
Having thick eyebrows—mine are starting to fall out and it has been even more upsetting than losing the hair on my head.
Wearing hats with my hair down and the ends curled.
Just generally feeling “normal” and recognizing myself in the mirror every day.
Things I like:
Hardly ever having to wash or style my hair. I will give the wig a few touch up curls or waves here and there but otherwise the amount of time I spend on my hair is virtually nothing.
When I do wear my wig, my hair looks absolutely amazing--like I just walked out of a salon.
I just got a second wig that is so different from what my natural hair (and first wig) look like—it’s shorter and blonde and it is so fun to wear and feel like a completely different person. I also don’t think blonde will ever be this low maintenance again (I have only experimented with lightening my hair a few times in the past and it was always very expensive and time-consuming to keep up with).
Things I’m getting used to:
Figuring out when to wear my wig at home--sometimes wearing a headband or hat is fine but other times I get really bummed out seeing myself in the mirror. On the days I decide to wear my wig around the house I usually feel a lot better about myself but then my head ends up really itchy around 6 or 7PM.
Seeing photos of my old hair and brows. I really liked it.
The sense of identity that is tied so deeply to hair—as fun as it is to put on a different look, sometimes I wonder what it all “means.” I have this really weird anxiety about Sophie thinking it’s unusual. Even when I was having a bad hair day before wigs, it was still at least very “me.”
Constantly wondering if I’m going to lose my eyelashes or if the hair on my head will ever grow back. I could try to modify my diet and lower inflammation and/or explore medical options but being pregnant makes all of that a lot more tricky. And then there’s the question of if the pregnancy itself might be contributing to this extreme hairloss—it’s so hard to know. I have a dermatologist appointment in April and other than that I’m trying to give myself a break on days when I cry about it. Sometimes it feels stupid to be so upset about something that is mainly just cosmetic, but whether I like it or not, it’s been heartbreaking. This may not be forever, but if it is, I’ll figure that out too.
I’m sharing this experience because every time I learn that someone else is going or has gone through something similar, it makes such a huge difference in my mood. When you are losing your hair it can feel bizarre and isolating and just emotionally brutal. I want to normalize this for everyone, but more than anything I hope you feel less alone if you are someone who is dealing with a similar situation.
As always, I’m a pretty open book, so feel free to leave a question or comment below or send me an email anytime. Thanks for reading.
