Part 10: And I’ll cry if I want to..

September 13, 2023

(Otherwise known as the Birthday Blues)

It's my birthday, dear readers, and I have the blues.

Yep, another year older, single in a new city, with bald spots expanding like that red wine stain on your new cream carpet. Not exactly a recipe for a celebratory mood. I'm not typically one to wallow, but this birthday found me drowning in a sea of despair. 

*Party of One^

I sat there that day, staring at my lifeless phone, waiting for a magical birthday date to appear. Then Patty, my gorgeous, ageless friend (seriously, she's 60 and looks 45!), calls for a birthday dinner out at a trendy new restaurant. "No way!" I groan, feeling like a troll in search of a bridge. “Nonsense,” she insists, "put on your big girl panties, grab that hair you bought, and get in the car!”

Head hanging, I shuffle to my room, locking eyes with my ever-so-serene wig mannequin (I really should give her a name). Her silent message seemed to piece through my gloom: "Try me."

Taking a deep breath,

I finally take her glorious locks

into my nervous hands

and clip her in.

And she rewards me.

"Damn, I look good."

*The Birthday Girl Herself ^

In a moment of vulnerability, I pour my heart out in a social media post, sharing what I was feeling with my broad base of friends.  All of their wishes of "Happiest Birthday Ever!" that day were falling on deaf (and newly exposed) ears.  This would never ever be one of those birthdays who’s glimmer of joy lasted for years to come, like many before it. Little did I know, this cry for help would become the catalyst for something extraordinary.

Big girl panties, and the partial wig (“topper”) firmly in place, I strut (okay, maybe just walk briskly) into the restaurant to meet Patty, the Gulf Coast Wind unfurling itself as my new found enemy, threatening to dislodge my beautiful fake locks. We dove right into a whirlwind of conversation and cocktail summoning. Twenty minutes flew by before I finally blurted, "Thoughts on the wig?"

She reels backwards, hands flying to her mouth.  Even knowing about my hair loss and that that this was my big wig debut, the topper blended so seamlessly with my natural hair that it had gone unnoticed in the flurry of our reunion. Mic drop, indeed.

Buzz Buzz

Heading home that evening, a new found confidence was buzzing within me.  My phone was buzzing too -  social media friends revived me with an outpouring of love, helpful tips, and surprisingly, countless stories from people who knew of others waging similar battles.  I looked good, I felt loved, and I wasn’t alone anymore.  Attitude adjustment commenced!  With a renewed sense of purpose, I reactivated my online dating profile.  Let's give it a whirl.

Over the next few days, I caught up with many of my friends.  I had recommendations on additional supplements, tonics that helped your scalp heal, UV therapy, histamine blockers, and antacids. Vitamins and pills filled my counter, fueling my hope for reversal. Could I turn this ship around?

So, stay with me, dear readers, as this journey sails further into uncharted waters in Part 11: The Finish Line. And yes, I'll cry if I want to, because sometimes that's just part of the process. But through it all, I'll do my best to keep my chin up and my wig secure, and see where this wild ride takes me...

Read More

---

(Hey hottie....did you end up on this page and find yourself unexpectedly in the middle of my story? Click here to start it from the top.)