It occurred to me this morning (as I was looking at yet another handful of falling hair) that among the three million women in America who are also currently losing their goldilocks (some as young as fifteen) and with more of us each day joining this elite club, there may be someone who has found some helpful remedy other than the abrupt notion of just cutting it all off and buying a wig. Obviously, those in the wigged group don’t spend their summers sweating in Phoenix. Not that I wouldn’t mind a couple of beautiful, I’d-never-guess-in-a-million-years, wiggy thing. I’d not be opposed at all. It’s just that wigs aren’t always compatible with 110 degrees and counting.
Also, my doctor’s pronouncement that because my father was bald, I’m also destined down that path just didn’t seem right. It just didn’t seem like a correct analogy. As the doctor told me his diagnosis, my head kept singing, “One of these things is not like the other.” Now, don’t get me wrong. If I’m gonna be a bald woman, so be it. There are so many worse things in the world than fretting over being follically challenged. Men deal with it handsomely, and there’s no reason women can’t as well. I just felt I had received a dismissive and incomplete answer.
So, I wonder if someone else has walked away from a doctor’s appointment with that same nagging feeling of not having been fully informed? I wonder if perhaps someone went on to find a lotion or potion or yoga pose that worked? Maybe lighting some candles and saying a novena to the Saint of Falling Hair? Maybe some veta-vita-vegamin that poofs up the hair and makes it all sticky so it doesn’t fall out of its little shaft? Maybe some simple hugs and hand-holding until we each find our happy-bunny place of acceptance? Something? Anything?
I propose we gather all serious thoughts and publish them here on the website. It’s all about helping one another succeed and doing so as gracefully as possible. Hey, I’ll even send a lovely DancingBirds.com baseball hat to the most clever, least noxious suggestion. So, pony up, ladies — and gentlemen too. Let’s hear your remedies, your thoughts, even your admonitions to just suck it up and get over it.
Let’s see what we can do to help each other be the beautiful Dancing Birds we are … and perhaps learn a new step or two from someone else.
P.S. I’ll leave this post up for a couple of days to give an opportunity for any and all passers-by to play.