Hair...

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Memoir  |  House: Booksie Classic

Tale of each time I lost my hair and what it means to me.

Four times in my life, I’ve lost my hair now. At age 13, 23, 32, and now 36. It just grew back from the third time, which was damaged in 2016, and the third time was my fault, but still traumatic. Every other time, my hair greatly fell out due to my health. 
 
The first time was the worst in teenaged, middle school life. My bangs were scorched off completely fine and my top half was all gone, and the top half was left bottle and dry. I had to wear it half up, with a lot of gel, people holed it felt like a helmet, to keep it slicked down from all the breakage. At Aggie 16, I got they kid medication and it slowly started to grow back healthily. 
 
At age 23, I got very ill with clostridium difficile from the hospital I worked at, and when the body is that stressed, it’ll take from the most unimportant parts first, so bye again hair. I watched as it fell out this time. I remember brushing out the clumps and crying to my mom as I brushed it. I remember the helpless feeling you feel. Looking back at pictures, it actually looked beautiful right before this timeframe. 
 
I guess this is when my hair became a sign of my health to me. If I had my hair nice and growing, I figured I was pretty healthy. It may sound stupid, but being chronically ill can make you crazy. You’ll grasp to what you can, what you didn’t even notice before. 
 
Now my health has been very “significantly” bad since 2013, and when I ruined my hair a third time in 2016, it hurt a lot - because it was my keepsake that I was proud of, that I had been focusing on during everything going on at this time, besides it being a symbol of my health. Not only did it make me feel more healthy, at an unhealthy time, (because I could at least say I still have my hair) it also was my big outing while so sick at the time. Now it was gone for a third time, because I had to over-color it, because the color never was right, so I was never happy with it. 
 
Now today I sit here a fourth time and I faced a new health challenge that directly affected my hair. I needed brain surgery, which meant shaving my hair. At first, I was inform by my neurosurgeon that it would only be a little hair and I was very happy. Unfortunately, something went wrong in this chaotic world and 1/3 of my hair was shaved, on the right side. Luckily, there is some hair hanging on the right side to cover up the shaved portion, but it killed mw at first to see it - especially since I was unprepared and it was not what I was expecting. I have accepted it now, though. 
 
I have decided, this time, to take this as a PROJECT and I enjoy those. I will not look at it as a challenge person, as I’ve had plenty of them, so much so that the word has negative cogitation attached to it. 
 
Instead of dwelling in sadness about my hair any longer, I’ve decided to make it into something I enjoy. My project is to see what awesome products and ideas will aid in growing out my hair and also, what crazy stages will my hair go through while growing out. 
 
I will say, it was ME who decided this, not anyone else. Surely not anyone negative or rude about my feelings. Let me make that clear, showing or telling someone that their feelings about a situation are not valid, it does not help them in any sort of way. It does not being any positive outcome. “I” finally brought in this positive outcome, with the help and guidance of the Universe and a  positive people. In the end, it’s about you and how you view things. 


Submitted: June 02, 2021

© Copyright 2021 Jenni Littzi. All rights reserved.

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