Mojo and the Mess

By Izzy | Mojo & The Mess

Well, that didn’t last long.

If you’ve been keeping up with my hair situation lately, you know it’s been a whole thing.

I’ve spent months trying to grow it back out. Complaining about the awkward stages, trying every possible way to style it, and getting increasingly irritated that the top of my head seemed to have a mind of its own.

Too poofy. Too short on the sides. Too long in the back. And somehow, no matter what I did, I looked like I had given myself a questionable haircut in the bathroom at 2 a.m.

But it was growing, and I was happy about that.

I was finally getting to the point where I could picture what it might look like in a few more months. I had my little collection of hair inspiration pictures saved, was trying to figure out how to keep it blonde without frying it, and had convinced myself that maybe, just maybe, I’d have a cute little bob eventually.

Nothing crazy. Just enough hair to actually do something with.

And then, just like that, it started falling out.

Again.

Last week I was trying to figure out how to fix my hair.

This week, I don’t have any to fix.

Seriously. What the hell.

Here We Go Again

With some recent changes to my cancer treatment, losing my hair again was a possibility.

I knew that.

But there’s a difference between knowing something could happen and standing there watching handfuls of hair come out.

And it happened fast.

Not a few strands on my pillow or a little extra hair in the shower. I’m talking clumps. The kind where you already know where this is heading.

So here I am, bald again.

I can’t even say I was surprised. More like annoyed, disappointed, and a little pissed off that I had spent all that time growing it out just to end up right back where I started.

I had just gotten through the worst of the awkward stages, too.

Rude.

It’s Not That I’m Afraid to Be Bald

I’ve been bald before. This isn’t new territory.

I’ve gone out without hair, taken pictures without hair, gotten used to seeing myself in the mirror without it.

And honestly, being bald itself isn’t even what bothers me the most.

It’s the starting over.

I was finally getting somewhere. It was something I could look forward to that had absolutely nothing to do with my next appointment, treatment, or scan.

I’d spend way too much time looking at hairstyles I couldn’t even pull off yet. I’d mess with it in the mirror, get frustrated, and probably complain about it to anyone willing to listen.

But I loved having that problem.

I loved that for once I was worrying about something normal.

Something as stupid as whether my hair was going to cooperate that day.

And now I’m back to not having any.

I Know I Have Bigger Things to Worry About

Before anybody says it, yes, I know it’s just hair.

I know my health matters more.

I know I’m still me without it.

I have stage 4 cancer. I promise you, nobody needs to remind me of the bigger picture. I’m pretty familiar with it.

But I also don’t think having cancer means I’m supposed to stop caring about the little things.

I’m 28 years old. Sometimes I want to worry about my hair, my clothes, my makeup, or whether I look cute in a picture.

I want to feel like a regular woman doing regular woman things.

And I don’t think that’s asking too much.

I’ve lost enough control over what happens with my body. It’s nice when I get to make decisions about something as simple as my appearance.

So yeah, I’m upset about my hair.

Not because I think being bald makes me less attractive or less of a woman.

I just wanted my damn hair.

I’m Just Tired of Having to Readjust

That’s probably the biggest part of it.

I feel like every time I finally get comfortable with something, there’s another change.

Different appointments. Different side effects. Different things to figure out.

And I know that’s just how life with cancer goes, especially when you’re living with it long-term.

But knowing that doesn’t make it any less annoying.

Lately, I’ve been trying to keep up with treatments, the blog, getting the foundation going, and everything else that comes with being an adult who unfortunately still has bills and responsibilities.

And somewhere in the middle of all that, I was getting excited about my hair.

It was such a small thing, but it was mine.

I could actually see progress happening.

Then, within a few days, it was gone.

I think that’s what bothers me more than anything.

Not the bald head.

Just having to start over with one more thing.

So, Now What?

Well, not much I can do about it.

I’m bald again. I’m not thrilled about it. And I’m sure I’ll get used to it just like I did before.

I’m not going to pretend I’m devastated every minute of the day, because I’m not.

I still have plenty going on, plenty I’m looking forward to, and about a million things that need my attention.

But I’m also not going to act like it doesn’t bother me.

Both can be true.

Hopefully, I’ll get another chance to grow it back. Maybe I’ll even get that bob I’ve been talking about.

And knowing me, if it does start growing again, I’ll be right back to complaining that it’s too poofy, sticks straight up, or refuses to lay down.

Which, at this point, sounds pretty damn nice.

For now, I guess I’ll be saving money on shampoo.

There’s that.

Love, Izzy ❤️

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