I bought a wig last week and here’s why:
1. I was tired of watching my hair fall out, which is really depressing.
2. Good hair days are preferable to bad hair days.
3. My hair won’t frizz up when it gets wet.
4. Don’t have to spend my money at the beauty salon for now.
5. No need for hats this winter. The wig will keep my head warm.
6. Now I can dress up as Sarah Palin for Halloween. (Plus, I have bangs just like her!)
7. The wig looks pretty good, once I got over my personal trauma of hair loss. And don’t give me any nonsense about how nowadays, everybody’s getting cute wigs …. because it’s not true.
8. I don’t have to style it. I don’t have to color up the gray hairs. And I don’t have to wash it every day.
9. I have two cats. Between them shedding and me shedding, I was constantly cleaning the furniture and vaccuming. Now I can go back to blaming them for all the fuzzballs in my house. As if they care.
10. Sometimes, you got to just do what you got to do.
Deciding to shop for a wig was not difficult. Maybe that’s because I like to shop for just about anything. My Wig Shoppe maven, Ruth, was as sweet as pie. She’s been a stylist for over 30 years and once lost her hair to chemotherapy. Eventually it grew back. Ruth brought her personal experience to the workplace, spreading hope and a little bit of pixie dust to her customers, including me.
My mother had a progressive case of hair loss as an adult. I often took her to the very same wig salon. My memories associated with those experiences were often sad. I think she was self conscious and depressed about the whole thing, and didn’t have friends with the same dilemma. She could find humor in just about anything. Mom would laugh and make jokes about her wig, which somehow made her feel better. But just under the surface of her brave face, you could see the sadness in her eyes. And honestly, at the time I had no clue what losing your hair felt like.
I do now. I miss my mom and wish I could talk with her.
So it’s been about a week since my trip to the wig shop. Of course, I had my crying spells. I finally understood my mother’s depression over losing her hair. I felt sorry for myself and had quite the pity party. For the sake of my health, however, I decided that if I’m going to get stressed out, I’ll save my worries for something really awful, like Christmas shopping, or kidney failure, or the basement flooding.
Adjusting to hair loss is a process that takes time. The main reason I decided to write about a topic this personal was to pay it forward for somebody that may need a little reassurance like my mom did.
If you … or someone you know … has lost their hair, take a few minutes and reply to this post with your story. I believe that by sharing our experiences, we grow stronger.