EPILOGUE TO “MOTH AND BUTTERFLY”

[Susan Beausang]

“I have made a decision, and luckily, if I don’t like it, I can always change my mind, right? Right.” Right again. And again…..

If we are lucky and we work hard, we sometimes come to a place of self-acceptance, a time and place in life where we accept our bald selves, for a day, for a month, for months or years, and then, often, we
start all over again.

As a bald woman, I’ve learned that self-acceptance is neither stationary nor permanent. As we move and change, as the lookers and bystanders change (their comments never change), so does our perception
and acceptance of self. So goes the Epilogue to Moth and Butterfly, by Terese Weir, “the cute bald chick”.

Terese’s story goes from married “cute bald chick” to single “cute bald chick”. From self-employed at home to hospital employee. After years of wearing only beaubeaus,
Terese was having some “hair envy” and began to wig shop. Her
intention wasn’t to fool anyone. According to her, everyone already
knew she was a “bald chick”. It was the act of going to work at a
public place and now having to “see hair everywhere”. She hadn’t
changed, was as beautiful as ever, but the time and place elements of
her self-acceptance had changed. New time, new place, new self image.

Despite the supportive statements of co-workers assuring her that she is beautiful and doesn’t need hair, my cute bald chick of a friend shared, “you and I both know that women who do not have Alopecia always
say that. They mean it, but 99.9% of the sentiment comes from a
position of they have hair.” Yes, I knew exactly what she is talking
about.

I also know what a new crowd, new environment, new social stage does to my own level of self-acceptance as a bald beauty. Even bonafide new hair emanating organically from my very own follicles doesn’t seem
to qualify me for anonymity and normal conversation. I learned that at
my son’s wedding, which I proudly attended with a couple inches of new
hair growth, colored and styled for the occasion. Thinking I’d been
granted a huge gift for having the opportunity to attend his wedding
with my natural hair, I was wrong to think I’d just blend in for a
change. Instead, I had to respond to inquiries and compliments on my
‘new wig’.

Change, adjustment, adaptation - it’s inevitable, always on the horizon, and though we may be permanently bald, though we may have accepted the bald chick in the mirror for the moment, that will change,
again and again.

Alopecia is like a Polaroid lens that replaces the visual glare with a stark clarity of just who we are under the hair, without the eyebrows or eyelashes. Depending upon what’s in the background, the nature of
here and now, we either like what see, or we don’t, or most often, we do
and then we don’t. This isn’t just true for us bald chicks. With or
without hair, our self image bounces up and down. Those of you with
hair bounce on a half-deflated basketball perhaps, while we bald chicks
ride the super ball.

Susan Beausang, President, 4Women.com

http://twitter.com/thebeaubeau