I wake up every day to light kisses on my cheeks, my sleepy eyes, my lips, the tip of my nose, my forehead, and lastly, my bald head. Lately I have been waking to heaven. The sight of my Superman smiling at me when I open my eyes is simply amazing. This seems to have been my husband’s morning routine lately. And I’m not the one to complain about it. I took it all with open arms. Like I said, it was heaven. This routine actually made me feel loved and accepted (first thing every morning, sweet!): with or without hair.

I confess, Alopecia Areata has taken its toll on my confidence and self-esteem. I am a woman after all. For years I have learned to lock all my insecurities in one imaginary vault, and I have been successful, until I’ve had to face the world in my condition now. Before my Alopecia, I consider myself a confident woman, with enough esteem to blow anyone off their seat (or at least I had the guts to see myself that way, whether it’s true or not is another story).

Alopecia had burst my bubble, just like that.

The road to acceptance has been quite a shady course for me. Sure I am fine with my baldness. It’s all superficial anyway. With all the assurances I get from friends and loved ones, how could I not be? But there will always be those days when I am at odds with my own standards of what’s acceptable and not. It’s all me. I guess.

I should just shrug it off when I’m at the receiving end of judging stares from strangers whenever I go out. I should just be more understanding when a family member tells me not to shave my head again because it wouldn’t look good on my driver’s license picture (she even went as far as telling me that bald women may not be accepted for the ID picture, like I was stupid). I should be more tolerant when a companion tells me to wear my beanie / hat before going out, because I look “cooler” that way; the unsaid words were “and bald w/ patches is just not cool”. I should be more patient when random people ask if I’m sick or why I shaved my head while giving me weird looks. I should be more forgiving when some of the people I encounter talk about my condition as though they know better; suddenly everyone’s a doctor nowadays. There, piece of cake. Easier said than done. It’s all me indeed.

I have accepted my Alopecia. I have embraced it. I am living with it. Hopefully, I won’t die with it. Truthfully, I’m learning to enjoy the boldness of my baldness as days go by. What I am finding difficult to accept are the taxing ramifications of having people around me, their actions and reactions, something I have no control over. It’s beyond me. It’s frustrating. And because of this, stepping out of my house these days have become a rarity.

In an ideal world, having Alopecia Areata shouldn’t make me less of a person. Seriously.

If you are one of these people I encounter every day, bless you for your curiosity repulsion pity concern. But please, let’s take it all lightly. Let’s joke about it. Laugh about it. It’s all right. I’m ok. I’m not dying. I’m still me. I have not changed one bit. My Alopecia Areata doesn’t define me, please see that too. I am still me, minus the hair. I am still the same person. And for the love of mankind, my hair (or the lack of it) doesn’t define who I am, my heart, my mind and my life.

You don’t have to tiptoe around me. You don’t have to speak of it in hush voices. I don’t really need your pity now more than ever. You don’t have to be seen in public with me if you don’t want to. It would hurt my feelings but I could understand that better than shaming you around your peers. You don’t have to find a cure for me; you’re not a doctor after all. I don’t expect you to. You don’t have to pretend to know about my condition, all you have to do is ask. You don’t have to explain anything to anyone on my behalf, my disease isn’t a fault to be covered up or justified. And I could speak for myself. You don’t have to tell me about what I should have, could have, would have been able to do if only I didn’t have the disease, or if only I wasn’t bald. I feel bad enough, thank you. You don’t have to lecture me on the apparently wrongs you, they, or I have done in the past that caused me to have Alopecia. Again, it’s nobody’s fault. You don’t have to exert extra efforts to make me feel “cool” about myself. I am already “cool” (I’m doing my smug grin), your actions only make me feel otherwise though. I hope you will see that your love and acceptance really are enough.

May be if you will just see beyond the bald spots on my head, you will be able to finally see me. Just me. Then may be I’ll have your acceptance too. May be.

To my Superman, thank you for seeing that I don’t wear my heart on my hair. And for being my bald buddy too. Thank you for making two bald heads better than one.

More about the joys of Alopecia from my blog at http://icedbit.wordpress.com/ :)