Cancer post 4
I've never been overly vain about my looks. For most of my life, I have roamed outside of the societal ideal, and I've been mostly okay with that, but I *was* very vain about my hair. I loved my hair! I loved the color, length, softness...all of it! I mostly wore it up and out of my face, but I was obsessive about taking care of it. It took me seven years to grow it from a short pixie to halfway down my back. Now it's gone and I'm left with a big, bald head. 👩🏻🦲 It's been too hot to even consider a wig, so mostly I walk around with nothing covering my head. I'm not wild about looking at pictures of myself right now, but aside from that, baldness has offered me freedom. My body is a battleground right now. What does it matter if I look sick? I am, in fact, very sick. I expected some glances or judgement, but I've experienced nothing like that. People have been kind about it. Or they don't care at all. All this to say that while I am not glad I have