Vulnerability Is Hard.




*there's a song at the end*


    At the ripe old age of 23, 4 years ago, I stood in front of the mirror and did a double, triple, quadruple, quintuple take. Was this really my fate? I rushed over to the computer to open an incognito tab and research my options...

Minoxidil, sodium laureth sulfate, Rogaine, transplant surgery, laser night caps, adhesive wigs, etc. I closed the laptop and decided on the quickest and cheapest option: A bottle of Jamaican Black Castor Oil from the hair products and accessories store near my house: Golden Mart Beauty Supply.

--> Directions 

  1. Dilute 1 Tablespoon of Castor Oil with 1 Tablespoon of Coconut Oil 
  2. Apply to the scalp and massage for 3-5 minutes with fingertips, using small circular motions.
  3. Cover hair with shower cap. 
  4. Wrap the shower cap in a towel soaked in hot water, trapping in the heat and activating the oils.
  5. Leave in for 3 hours before washing.

I did this routine a grand total of 2 times before putting the bottle to rest in a bottom bathroom drawer to mingle with other abandoned creams, sprays, and gels. 

2 reasons I gave up:

    1. For maximum results I left my turban on for the full 3 hours. This was way too much time, and also seemed like too much investment for too little return. Twice a week for a month to see placebo improvements?! Nah. 

    2. Lying to my housemates, "my sister says this is waaay better for your hair than shampooing in the shower", was giving me anxiety and I didn't like the feeling of walking around the house in a turban secretly regrowing my hair, hoping no one would notice, "hey are you doing that cause you're freakin bald?!" 

It was better for me to go the way of (my hero) Justin Vernon  and let the cards (hairs) fall where they may. After all, I say that I value authenticity, "realness", and acceptance, and now I get to live it! 

So even though I look up photos of attractive bald and balding celebrities from time to time, and often complain with my friend Travis (name changed for privacy) about the disappearance of our head spaghetti, I believe I have chosen the most moral and stress-free option: doing nothing. 

That being said, the deforestation of my dome-piece is a non-stop operation, and it's only a matter of time before I join the millions of men who step outside every day with an openly bald head.
I know my genetic fate, I know what most of my life will see me as: a bald man. 

That brings us to the heart of the issue.
I want to have confidence. 
I want to smile when I consider how I look instead of feeling anxious, self-conscious, and worried that my balding makes me look weak.

I don't want my hair to be the defining factor of my self-esteem. 

Hair frames the face. It sort of sets the stage for every face to face interaction.
We prepare it, and everyone sees it. It communicates. 
So to be given a fully operational system, and to enjoy it for a number of years, and then for that to be taken away --------> does not feel good.

So this is what I tell myself (you could say it if you want)

I am beautiful
I am strong
The vanishing of my vanity is an opportunity to get to know the real me. 
I've been growing under the surface all along. 
I can't be affected by lasers, chemicals, and surgery.
I am infinite, dangerous, and worthy to walk the earth.

    I am me.
    Getting to know that person is a pleasure.



Here's a song I made about vulnerability


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