Month: November 2019

The Day Cancer Took My Hair

The idea of losing my locs is something I’m dreading right now. I’ve been growing my hair for six years. The reason I started growing them in the first place was because I was in school, and caring for a young family . I would two strand twist my hair every three to four weeks, which was an all day event might I add. My friend suggested that I loc my hair since I was natural and twisting it anyway. I thought to myself, naw I like to change my hair to much. One day I woke up and said I’m tired I’m not taking my twist down, so I begin to just allow my hair to do its own thing. I eventually had to do something to it so I looked in the mirror and started to twist my hair at the roots and over the course of a few months it locked. During this time I was nurturing my hair in the same manner you would a plant. I was researching all the necessary products, oils and techniques to give my locs the best growing environment. Going through the frizzy faze and the I’m tired of looking like a porcupine stage was the hardest. People would ask me if I was ever going to cut them. My response would be “nope I’m letting them grow until they get to my ankles.” Never in a million years did I think they would fallout on their own and certainly not because of a cancer diagnosis.

When I received the diagnosis I also received other information about what to expect during and after chemotherapy. When your receiving that information you don’t retain the majority of it. I know in my case I was there physically but mentally I wasn’t. My doctor told me that about two weeks after my first treatment I would begin to lose my hair. My body hair actually started coming out first. When I noticed the hair on my head coming out nothing could’ve prepared me for that moment so in Alex Marie fashion, I put my scarf back on and decided not to deal in that moment. Plus, my daughter was with me and I didn’t want anyone else crying because of me.

The next morning I wasn’t prepared for what happened. I woke up and felt like something was hanging from my scarf. I felt to see what it was, I was horrified, it was an entire loc hanging from the root of my head. All I could do was sob uncontrollably. My boyfriend was in the other room he heard me crying and asked why I was crying . I just took a picture of my loc and sent him a picture. (Yes we text each other while we’re in different rooms…lol) he text back your appointment is at 5:30.

Once the barber finished my cut I put my hood on my head and walked out the shop. My boyfriend asked why I had put my hood on? Fighting back tears I replied “because I look like a man” he just shook his head and said “babe you look fine.” Maybe I looked fine to him but I was everything but fine. I think every time I was alone I cried. I had become so attached to my hair. I didn’t choose to cut them. The process of growing them took so long and just like that they were gone.

The next day after my cut, I had a decision to make, to cover my head or not to. I decided not to hide from it and to just own it. I’m not going to front at any given moment that day I was on the verge of breaking down. I made it through the day without tears and I’ve been rocking this bald head of mine ever since.