wigs are beautiful. whether you have cancer, a condition like alopecia or you just love to switch things up, wigs are bomb.
but i’ve never worn one in my life.
I Refused to Wear a Wig During Chemo – Here’s Why
as a very necessary disclaimer let me say that people going through cancer treatment and chemotherapy get to decide what to do with their bodies. if wearing a wig makes them happy, then sis by all means please do you! i salute whatever mechanism one uses to get through a very brutal treatment.
words can’t describe how traumatizing it can be to lose your hair. i still remember the exact moment that i realized my hair was failing out.
READ: What You Don’t Know about Breast Cancer Treatment
for days, i’d been assuming that the sponge i used to coil my hair was shedding. then one morning it clicked. it wasn’t the sponge that was falling apart. the small black particles that i was seeing were clumps of my hair.
i lost it.
i thought that i’d mentally prepared myself for the moment. however, seeing my hair in the sink felt like something different. it was no denying the fact that i was battling a real disease.
so on christmas day i did the inevitable. my dad shaved my head while i cried my eyes out and snow fell outside our window. my grandmother even shaved her head in solidarity.
it felt like i was saying goodbye to a vital piece of my identity.
the next day we got up bright and early to go wig shopping. since my hair was natural, and i only used natural products like shea butter and coconut oil, i was totally lost on where to start. we ended up at a random wig shop with even more random wigs.
i was so overwhelmed with trying to pick one out until i let my grandma choose. this means i left the shop with something styled for a 77 year old woman. needless to say, everyone who loved me forbade me to put it on my head. i kinda looked like oprah in the 1990s.
then i had an epiphany. if i never wore wigs before chemotherapy, why would i reach for one during treatment? covering my bald head wasn’t compulsory, and i had the ability to decide what was best for me.
I Needed My Bald Head
black women’s hair is political and embracing my bald head was an act of rebellion. it forced me to face breast cancer and made my determination to fight even stronger.
most importantly, it finally allowed me to fall in love with my features because i couldn’t hide behind anything. my undefined nose bridge and big eyes were on display for everyone to see. my dark skin and wide smile weren’t just parts of me — they were me.
so i slowly made a commitment to embrace and actually appreciate the things that i couldn’t change. from this viewpoint, losing my hair was actually a blessing. it prompted me to do the work necessary for complete self-acceptance. i finally embraced my power.
onraé likes to say that black people look good with bald heads. i’m happy that my partner shows me love no matter my appearance. however, here’s the truth: no matter the race, a woman’s hair never has and never will define her. one of my sheroes, congresswoman ayanna pressley shared a sermon on this very topic.
if you’re struggling with the decision to go bald, then i hope my story reminds you that you’re not alone. as ayanna pressley so eloquently said, “i’m not here to occupy space. i’m here to create it.” yes my baldness was short-lived, but my commitment to embracing myself in any form will last forever.