The Bold, the Bald, and the Beautiful
Saturday, May 21st, 2011While filling my gas tank yesterday, I got my love tank filled too, a two for one special. A young handsome boldly gay man came up to me and told me I was beautiful. I was in a hurry to pick up carpool so he caught me by surprise. “Thank you.” I said, blushing a bit, as I ran my fingers across my bald head answering, “I have breast cancer.” His face softened, we chatted a bit and before I could race off to carpool he asked, “Can I give you a hug?” “Absolutely, I agreed.
The interesting thing about this encounter, it has become a daily occurrence in my life since I shaved my head and started chemo. Absolute complete strangers come up to me out of the blue to share a personal story, compliment me or simply say “Hi”. I feel a bit like a Hollywood star without the paparazzi. I can’t walk into a room, a restaurant, or a grocery store without people staring. Many avert their eyes quickly looking away, but just as many say “Hi”, and a few want to make conversation. Just this week alone, I had a chat with a fireman at Starbucks, a checkout woman at Albertsons, and Casey’s friend’s famous drummer dad who sang out, “Rock’n hairdo!” as he rocked out on Casey’s drum kit.
When picking Casey up from school the other day, a very big black bald security guard came up to me and blurted out, “Damn girl, I thought I was hot, you are smok’n.” A man at “The Neighborhood Cup”, a local coffee house told me I should be carrying a guitar with that hairdo, little did he know. And a woman my mother’s age at the beach cautioned me, “I sure hope you have sunscreen on.” Some women can’t help themselves, they will always be moms.
Seems I have caused quite a stir around town, as if I am an enigma. The thing is I am not an enigma. One in eight women in the OC has breast cancer. Where are they? Where are all the bald heads?
I found the answer to my question a couple of days ago at the Newport Hair Loss Center. Nazy, the owner, told me that most women will not leave the back room designed specifically for bald clients without their wigs on. Apparently, I am her only client that walks into her salon with my wig in my hands instead of on my head. I guess that is why she asked me to be a model for a video she plans to put on her website.
Maybe I would feel differently if I had a head shaped like a melon or looked like the tin man but I highly doubt it.
I have breast cancer. It’s a fact of life. I am not embarrassed in the least. In fact, in some strange way, wearing a wig makes me feel a bit embarrassed, like I’m hiding. Bearing my bald head makes me feel free, strong, brave and daring like I own it. It is very empowering.
I know I make many feel uncomfortable. I can see them avert their eyes from me. Some were taught not to stare, others are at a loss of words or just don’t know what to do. Their own insecurities take over, except for the kids. They are still free from this conditioning. It is so refreshing to have a young child stare at me. They usually smile and some even feel free to ask me why I don’t have any hair, until their parent grabs them by their arm and reprimands them, “Don’t stare, it’s not polite.” Yes, this has actually happened.
Honestly, I love taking people out of their comfort zone, upsetting their status quo. Cancer is real. It is not going away anytime soon. Quite the contrary, with our current lifestyle and a cure still years away, the one out of eight ratio will only rise. Now that is upsetting. If bearing my bald head reminds people of this reality, than I will continue to keep my wig on its stand on my dresser in my bedroom, maybe I will even continue to shave my head after chemo. Hmmmm, now that’s an idea!
If I didn’t want attention, I could wear my wig. I admit I am a bit of an attention whore. Bearing my bald head opens doors for me. It gives me a chance to talk to complete strangers. I love talking to strangers. It makes them not so strange any more. Well, most of them. I do not love chemo, however. I don’t feel like writing down all my current side effects right now (that is another blog). It depresses me. But, having a complete stranger come up to me and tell me I am beautiful, they will pray for me and remind me to put sunscreen on makes this whole process a little easier to swallow. Marry Poppins was right when she sang, “A spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down.”
Not everyone has cancer, but remember everyone you meet has a really big problem. Be someone’s sugar today and say “Hi”, throw out a compliment or simply smile. It makes our big scary world full of strangers feel just a little smaller and an individual just a bit taller. And it just might make your own problems seem less important. There is an ancient Persian saying,
I had the blues because I had no shoes until upon the street, I met a man who had no feet.