Confessions and matters of the heart hair...

I have a confession to make.

I have Alopecia.

What is Alopecia, you ask?

Well, according to the Wikipedia free online encyclopedia, it is:

“An autoimmune disease in which the body mistakenly treats its hair follicles as foreign tissue and suppresses or stops hair growth. It is not contagious but may be hereditary. Stress has not been proven to be a crucial factor, although this is still disputed.

First symptoms are small, soft, bald patches which can take just about any shape but are most usually round. Initial presentation most commonly occurs in the late teenage years but can happen with people of all ages. It most often affects the scalp but may occur on any hair-bearing part of the body. There may be different skin areas with hair loss and regrowth in the same body at the same time. It may go into remission for a time or permanently. The longer the hair loss persists, the smaller the chance that it will grow back.”

Now, to clarify, I do not have Alopecia Areata Totalis or Universalis. I still have the hair on top of my head, and over most of my body. I, however, do not have much when it comes to eyebrows, eyelashes and – surprisingly enough – nasal hair.

Like many people, my symptoms developed in my teens. They were easy enough to ignore at first. I had giant, bushy eyebrows originally, and I initially thought that their obvious thinning was a good thing. This, however, turned into a bit of a trauma when I realized that I would have to start filling them in regularly. I’ve always been a tomboy, so the idea of having to use any form of make-up on a daily basis seemed incredibly horrible somehow. And it only got worse. Today there is less “filling in” and more “painting on” of eyebrows each and every morning. The only good thing is that with time come acceptance, and I am finally learning to “accept” the fact that this is a reality for me (as is the constant threat that the hair loss can spread).

You know, it’s really silly if you stop to think about it. Hair is so cosmetic. You don’t need it to survive. Only the nose hairs serve an actual purpose (i.e. air filtration). Yet, when it is gone, it’s very distressing - especially psychologically. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve cried over lost facial hair, or because I cannot “draw” my eyebrows on straight in the morning. If it rains, or if I’m sweating at the gym, I worry constantly that I’ll have eyebrow pencil running down my face. When I fall asleep on the couch watching TV or a movie, the first thing I do when I wake up is check to see if, A) my eyebrows are still on; and B) that I didn’t leave any “eyebrow” on the couch by accident. It totally changes the way you think about normally mundane activities – like trying on a pull over shirt at the mall, getting a hair cut or kissing your boyfriend if he’s wearing a baseball cap.

Plus, it’s not a necessarily a pleasant process when my body decides that my eye brow/lash and/or nose hair needs to go. First, I notice a faint itching under the skin. Then, there is generally a tiny, red bump that appears where my immune system is attacking the hair follicle. Finally, all the hairs on or near the bump fall out; leaving a fun gap or bald spot in its place. Good times, let me tell you.

Before I was “officially” diagnosed by my dermatologist, I’d exacerbate the issue by scratching my eyebrows or rubbing my eyes when the “itching” began. Now, I try to leave it alone, which is much, much easier said than done. It’s kind of like trying to not scratch an annoying bug bite, or not wiggle a baby tooth when it came loose back when you were a kid.

There was a time when I thought I was somehow causing my facial hair to fall out because I was itching at it so – like I had some sort of stress disorder (I had a friend in high school that had a habit of twirling her hair until it would fall out). It was almost a relief the first time I realized that the hairs where going to fall out regardless of whether or not I rubbed at them. What was happening was being caused on the inside, and I was powerless to stop it.

Anyway, why am I confessing this and – more importantly – why am I doing it now?

Well, on Wednesday, I donated my hair to Locks of Love. I had over 15 inches cut off, and 13 of that was put in a padded envelope and mailed to the non-profit organization. My thought process: I’m lucky. I still have the hair on my head. It is thick and grows quickly. I should use it to benefit those who aren’t so lucky. Those who’s hair is falling out or completely gone. Those with whom I can relate to, if only on a very small scale.

In case you aren’t familiar with Locks of Love, they provide wigs to children that have either lost their hair due to chemotherapy or alopecia. A very worthy cause, at least in my opinion. It takes, generally, 8 to 10 donated ponytails to create one wig for one child, and the wigs shed at a similar rate to the human head so they only last approximately a year before needing to be replaced. But these wigs – finite though they are – provide a sense of normalcy to children who have watched their own locks fall out. After all, hair may be considered “cosmetic”, but people notice when it is gone. And, if it is your hair, you notice it all the more.

I would like to encourage everyone who can to consider growing their hair out for Locks of Love as well. It is a great feeling to know that your hair will go and do something great for someone else, instead of being swept up off the barber’s floor and lumped in with the rest of the day’s garbage. Plus, you get a completely new hairdo in the process (my own aunt didn’t recognize me at first)! It is one of the few truly win-win situations out there, and I’ve never been happier…

Before…
Photo by Deals

The Ponytail…
Photo by Deals

After…
Photo by Deals

HAPPY LABOR DAY, EVERYONE!!