Well, its official: I’m almost there to complete baldness. Which my mother sometimes comments on about how much it reminds her of sweet baby new-born Jenna. Where did the time go? Am I reversing? Are we reversing?
And it also amazes me how very little that I do care. Where did that come from? I walk into a store and it doesn’t even phase me that my head is patch-y, that pretty much all of my hair is gone, that I don’t look “normal.”
Rewind back to 13 and I would have cried.
Rewind back to 18 and I might have whined to be seen in public like this.
Hit pause now, at 23, and this is me, somewhere my confidence gaining to walk bald boldly.
Your head, for one, definitely feels so much lighter without hair than you ever realized. (Where and when did I forget that?) And the only time now that I can envision caps or scarves are during the autumn and winter months, where more so its for protection and heat than vanity.
Vanity. The hair comes, the hair goes.
I am still me. Yes, I am still me.