WHAT ALOPECIA HAS TAUGHT ME ABOUT BEAUTY AND SELF-LOVE

Earlier this year I was diagnosed with telogen effluvium, a type of alopecia. Essentially, my immune system gets triggered by stress, causing my hair to fall out during a period of four to six months. I’ve experienced this a few other times in my life and, every time I do, it’s devastating for my self confidence. While my hair loss and bald spots aren’t super obvious and most people probably don’t notice, I’m still deeply insecure about it. 

With telogen effluvium, there’s no telling how much hair you’ll lose during the shedding period. While it’s supposed to grow back, there’s always a chance that it won’t, or that you’ll be stuck in a recurring shedding phase as a result of stress caused by hair loss, (ironic, right?), and never able to regain your former hair density. As of right now, there’s no cure for any type of alopecia. Admittedly, my hair falling out with no way to stop it has caused me immense distress, particularly the unknown future of it all. My initial inability to accept myself with bald spots, thinning hair, or no hair at all made me realize just how fragile my idea of beauty was. I couldn’t imagine myself without my long, thick hair that had long been part of my identity. Despite my insecurity, my diagnosis and contemplation of my predicament have allowed me to question my perception of beauty and femininity, and, most importantly: see the problem with my fragile self confidence. I’ve begun to see that my appearance isn’t a problem — society is. Why should women have to look or be a certain way to be seen as beautiful? And why is there so much distaste for women who don’t fit the beauty standard?  

The more hair I lost this year the more I began to worry. Worries about my friends being embarrassed of me, or the potential inability to date again loomed large at first, but these thoughts slowly quieted as I realized that I couldn’t stop whatever the future held, and decided I might as well embrace it. Thinking through and imagining all of the future’s possibilities helped me free myself from my obsession with how others viewed me. Like most people, I care a lot about what others think, and the idea of having a visible difference from everyone around me was my worst nightmare. My first instinct when I started to lose my hair again was to isolate myself until I felt and looked more like myself, but when I realized I had no control of what was happening to me, I thought less about the way I looked and more about everything I wanted to experience. In the big picture, it doesn’t matter how I look because there are other things in life that mean way more to me, like spending time with my friends and family, going on runs with my dog, or swimming in the river. My health and happiness means more to me than my hair ever could, and I refuse to let misogynistic beauty standards stand in the way of me continuing to put myself out there and doing what I love. 

My embrace of a possible future that at one point seemed catastrophic also gave me the opportunity to learn to value my uniqueness, creating the building blocks to develop radical self-love. I’ve always loved clothes and nothing makes me feel more confident than a cute outfit, so I began to think about how a short haircut or no hair at all can be part of an outfit as another accessory. I also thought of all the ways that no or less hair can elevate a look, like making big chunky earrings stand out even more. 

Despite all my talk of self-love and acceptance, I don’t want to limit this article to platitudes and pretty conclusions. I’m not even close to total acceptance of my hair or the potential future, however, I’m working towards it and am excited at the prospect of personal growth. This experience also has taught me that loving yourself and doing the work to get there is a radical and political act, especially now when femininity and womanhood are politicized more than ever, with conflicting ideas about the place, responsibilities, and expectations for women in America echoing loudly all around all of us. When those voices feel particularly loud, I invite you to think about what it really means to you to be beautiful, because honestly, that’s the only opinion that matters. 

• alopecia
• beauty
• beauty standards
• confidence
• misogyny
• UC Berkeley