Sphynx

Long flowing locks. Or short flowing locks.

Either way, it’s an (almost) universal symbol of femininity.

Even if I was usually lazy and never styled it, my hair was part of my physical identity. Losing it would be an instant indicator of illness.

After years of looking into the mirror and seeing hair…who the hell is this new bald person? Those are my blue eyes, pointed nose, pierced ears—but that can’t be my head!

Admittedly, buzzing my hair when it started coming out helped prepare me for this stage. But there’s a huge difference between a buzz cut, and peach fuzz.

I’ve gotten used to the double-take looks. The awkward glances from my eyes up to my head mid-conversation. I used to wear head coverings in my own driveway to get something out of my car.

But now?

Now I wear my bald head like a badge of honor. A sign of my fight. A signal to all that I’m in battle with my head held high.