Part 30: Time To Pony Up

So I went to a polo match a few weeks ago. It's a great place for bald people - fancy hats are the norm.

I was chilling in the clubhouse, sipping champagne. I was having witty banter with my actual, human friends (yes, I do occasionally emerge from my hermit cave) when I had "a moment." It was that moment when the National Anthem starts, and you're supposed to remove your hat. Uhhh… no. Don’t wanna. It's not a good look. Pretty sure you don’t want to see the hot mess of a Temu wig I’m sporting under this hat right now…talk about "Oh say can you see”…all my secrets.

Fortunately for me, as I looked around, I noticed the men took off their hats, but the women didn't. ⟣ Cool cool. Same. Crisis averted ⟢

I want one. (Of the horses.)

The Unexpected Turn of Events

But hold your horses for a minute. (Pun intended, because, you know, polo.) As the first notes of the anthem started, the woman in front of us took off her hat. And guess what?

SHE. WAS. BALD.

I swear to you that when we sat down after the anthem, every single person I was with kicked me under the table. They gave me the universal "omg look over there" head tilt. Yes, babes, I SAW. Oh, I saw. 👀

Now, if you know me IRL (or have been following this gloriously unfiltered internet saga), you know I have the impulse control of a toddler when I’m excited. I had to talk to this bold, bald, badass. I gave it a valiant six minutes of restraint before I marched over to her table, plopped down beside her, and whispered conspiratorially, "I'm bald too," while giving my wig a little peek-a-boo lift. Partners in shine, if you will.

The collective gasp from my table behind me was almost as satisfying as that ice-cold glass of champagne. (Almost.)

Connecting Over Shared Experiences

This lovely woman instantly warmed up to my weird self. She told me she also has Alopecia Universalis and has had it off and on since she was very young. WAIT. WHAT? I met yet another person with AU IRL? I thought we were supposed to be rare, dammit. We had a quick, polite conversation, and I headed back to my table, happy with my little expedition.

As the horses thundered their way up and down the polo field, I went back to my champagne, forgetting that I was bald and just enjoying the day. As the match ended and we were begrudgingly packing up to go, this bald beacon stopped by our table. She scribbled her number on a napkin and suggested we get together for a chat. Oooh, yeah, for sure. I hadn't talked to another female baldie IRL since my own hair fully performed its dramatic exit.

A Memorable Meet-Up

We met up a few weeks later for a glass of wine. That wine turned into a three-hour therapy session. What did this evening reveal to me?

1. Diverse Stories: Everybody with AU has a different origin story, timeline, and coping mechanism. Well, duh, I say to myself as I write that. But honestly, the more stories I hear, the more I realize how utterly random this condition is and how baffled the medical community still is about it.

2. Bravery in Baldness: She came out to our evening together bald. She doesn't wear wigs at all—only hats to protect her from the sun. Whoa. Mind blown. She's a baller. I'm much less brave than I've convinced myself I am.

3. Personal Reflections: I didn't love staring at a bald person for three hours. It was… weird. Yes, I’m aware of my own chrome dome situation. But even though she rocked it with her makeup and confidence, seeing her triggered something in me. I was picturing myself being seen as I saw her. (Please, no calls to my high school English teacher on that sentence. I’m doing my best here.)

4. Grateful Perspective: Selfishly, I'm profoundly grateful this disease happened to me later in life. The stories of childhood trauma experienced because of this condition are heartbreaking. I'm positive my life trajectory would have been drastically different if this had happened to me at a young age.

   
   

A Public Service Announcement on Alopecia

As this strange little blog of mine continues to reach more people, I hear more stories from women around the world experiencing severe Alopecia. Here’s the PSA for today: Alopecia is NOT a direct result of being unable to “manage your stress.” We are not "hysterical" women whose anxiety made their hair fall out. This is an autoimmune disease. FACT.

Additionally, when you have one autoimmune disease, you will more than likely get another. So to anyone out there with Celiac's, psoriasis, Hashimoto's, Lupus, MS, RA, Crohn's, colitis (the party never stops)—this could also happen to you. Check your scalp regularly. See a bald spot? Run, don’t walk, to your dermatologist.

And for the love of all things good in this world, and especially if you don't have Alopecia, please stop telling us we need to "find ways to de-stress" and that it will come back. Not helpful. Super annoying. Borderline judgy.

So, in the end, maybe this polo match was my unexpected calling to gather my 'sisters in shine.' Together, we can create our own little 'Pink Polo Pony Club' – a cute, sparkly, non-nude, non-judgy, check-your-pride-at-the-door virtual club. We can let loose and 'keep on dancing' like the queens we are, regardless of hair status.

🎵 And if that song is stuck in your head now, you’re welcome. 🎶

Okay, you crazy little internet voyeurs, go forth and conquer your day.

Much love,

Kristina 💖

kristina@unexpectedlybald.com

Read The Next Post

---

Special tip, just for you:

Use that little field way down below to submit your email address to get notified when my next post is published, or send me an email: kristina@unexpectedlybald.com

(Is it possible you want to start my story from the top? Excellent!

Click here to go back to where it all began....)

...Or hit me up on IG and FB at UnexpectedlyBald.