During my early years of cancer treatment, I held onto the hope that I might be the exception—the one person who wouldn't lose their hair due to chemotherapy. Unfortunately, that hope was shattered when the hair loss began. It unfolded just as they say it does: clumps falling out in the shower, accumulating in the drain, and slipping through my fingers as I tried to style my hair.

I had always been blessed with thick, beautiful hair, which made me oblivious to the profound impact of losing it all. My hairdresser kept insisting that "it was time," but the thought of shaving my head seemed unimaginable.

Hair loss during a cancer journey can deeply impact a person's mental and emotional well-being, making it one of the most distressing side effects of treatment (at least, in my experience). It magnifies the already overwhelming sense of loss of control and identity that accompanies a cancer diagnosis, as I discovered firsthand.

With every strand of hair, eyebrows, and eyelashes I lost, I gained a profound insight into the emotional burden and hurdles that accompany the loss of that cherished crowning glory. It was hard to accept how deeply intertwined my hair was with my sense of self, my beauty, and my confidence. Just as my hair began to grow back well into my second year of chemotherapy, it vanished once more. This was a devastating blow, but I now knew what to expect.

*Italy July 2, 2007 - rocking my wig and enjoying great wine and pasta!*

I greatly admire the women who hold their heads high, choosing not to conceal their hair loss with scarves, wigs, or caps. One woman told me that covering it up made her feel like a sick person, while another said she felt strong, beautiful, and fierce, proudly displaying her bald head. However, I personally lacked the confidence to embrace my baldness. I felt self-conscious as if everyone's eyes were fixated on me. Or they felt sorry for me as a cancer patient. Even wearing my chemo pack on the outside of my outfits required adjustment.

Choosing whether or not to go bald (and rock it) is a deeply personal decision, and everyone handles it differently. Some women opt for hats, turbans, headscarves, or wigs, which can range from natural options to colorful, fun, and whimsical choices. Cold cap therapy has also become a popular choice for many, claiming to minimize hair loss during chemotherapy (it is important to consult with your doctor to determine its suitability for your specific type of cancer).

For me, wigs seemed like the perfect solution. With a wig, I could wear that confidence on my head and people would still see me as I had always been. My hairdresser helped me select a wig that perfectly matched the style and length of my natural hair, making me feel more like myself. I remember browsing through the extensive wig selection, each one offering different styles, colors, and lengths. While a part of me yearned to try something completely outlandish and fun, like long blonde straight hair or a wild pixie cut, this experience was not about fun; for me, it was about mourning the loss of something that had been part of my identity, which left me feeling sad and vulnerable.

*The first time I lost my hair was after my first chemo treatment in 2006. My hair began to grow back in 2008 when this photo was taken. I lost it again shortly after this photo.*

As I peered into the mirror, my hairless head and the absence of any wig, the face that greeted me appeared strangely unfamiliar, nearly unrecognizable. The visage that met my eyes was a poignant reminder of the profound transformation I had undergone. It was something I just couldn’t get used to. I had to remind myself that the person inside remained the same.

Engaging in self-care became my secret to maintaining confidence. Taking care of my skin was a priority, keeping it hydrated with nourishing moisturizers. A touch of blush and lip gloss became part of my daily routine, helping me feel a sense of normalcy amid the chaos. Wearing bright colors or scarves around my neck made me feel beautiful and feminine.

Remember, hair loss is not permanent. It will gradually grow back, although it may not immediately look the same as before chemotherapy. It's not uncommon for hair to return with a different color or texture, such as the phenomenon known as "chemo curls," where previously straight hair comes back curly. This change can last for a year or two. However, as years go by, your hair will usually return to its pre-chemotherapy level of curliness or straight. After my hair started growing back following chemotherapy, I noticed a surprising change—it grew back curly and kinky. Instead of straightening it, my hairdresser suggested relaxing it to maintain its natural body. I decided to give it a try, and I'm so glad I did! My hair has now returned to its original condition, and I am proud to celebrate every compliment I receive on its texture and appearance.

*Celebrating the holidays in Palm Beach with Peggy Flesher, wig and all!*

Here are a few tips I've learned along the way:

Keep your hair and scalp clean. Consider using a mild shampoo like baby shampoo or specialized products like Nioxin Cleanser and Serum for your scalp.
If you feel empowered by having a sense of control, consider cutting your hair before it starts falling out. This can make the transition easier, and it may help you find a wig that matches your previous style.
Embracing different options, such as wigs or head coverings, can help restore a sense of confidence and normalcy.
It's important to inform your family, friends, or children in advance that your treatment may cause hair loss. Explain what to expect and why the treatment is crucial. The more positive and open you are, the better they will react and support you.
Hair loss can act as a visible symbol of your cancer diagnosis, which not everyone wants to share. Talking to your healthcare team about your concerns and preparing for the possibility can help you navigate this challenging side effect of treatment.
Ultimately, it's essential to prioritize self-care, maintain open communication with loved ones, and remember that hair loss does not define you. You are still the same person inside, and your strength and resilience shine through, regardless of your external appearance.

As I witnessed my hair reclaim its natural state, I saw each phase as a tender reminder of resilience and the miraculous healing power of our bodies, I embrace this new chapter with a heart full of gratitude. Each day, I greet the mirror with a renewed sense of self, cherishing this beautiful journey of regrowth.

Thank you for letting me share my story! If you or someone you know is working through a cancer diagnosis, I'm here to support you as a personal advocate and cancer coach. Please share this blog for inspiration and visit my website to learn more about working with me. Click the “Work with Laurie” tab at the top of my website.

Hair Loss and Healing: Nurturing Self-Care Amidst the Chaos