In Search of Self-Love Amidst Hair Loss

“I’m never going to be loved.” This phrase echoed within me, time and time again, when I first realized I was losing my hair. The self-doubt, the insecurity, the despair—I felt them all with an intensity that's hard to put into words.

During this tumultuous period, mirrors became my enemies. To avoid the confrontation of my own reflection, I removed them from my room, and slowly they vanished from most parts of my house. Every glimpse was a dagger to my self-worth. It amplified an internal monologue that whispered, "If I can't love what I see in the mirror, how could anyone else?"

Being a woman in a patriarchal society can often mean a lot of our self-value is tied to our physical appearance, especially in how it's perceived by the opposite sex. A damaging narrative, to say the least. This burden of beauty, the unspoken expectation to always appear in a certain way, can be stifling. I spent years trapped by this notion, feeling the weight of societal pressure.

But as the years have passed, with introspection and a lot of inner work, my narrative underwent a transformation. Today, 13 years after the onset of my hair loss, I stand in a very different place. As I recently celebrated another birthday, I reflected on the young, 19-year-old Kim, struggling to navigate the complex emotions of hair loss. While I hold immense compassion for her, she seems like a distant memory. This journey, rife with emotional ups and downs, has been enlightening in ways I couldn’t have anticipated.

One of the most profound lessons I've learned is that our self-worth is not, and should never be, solely tied to our physical appearance. If someone devalues you for factors beyond your control—like hair loss—they're revealing more about their character than they are about your worth.

In those early years, I felt isolated, as if I was the only one battling this. But delving into the alternative hair world opened up a community, a sisterhood of women who shared my experiences. I wasn't an outlier. I wasn't alone. There were countless women out there who understood, who "got it."

It's not to say that every day has been bright. There have been moments of frustration, moments when I've wanted to scream at the world. Hairpieces and wigs haven't been a magical remedy to all my insecurities. However, they have provided an avenue for reclaiming control, not just over my appearance, but over how I perceive myself.

When I began to reclaim that control, there was a domino effect. Regaining autonomy over my hair became a metaphor for regaining autonomy over my life. It was the catalyst for a journey of self-rediscovery and self-love. It reminded me that the most transformative love affair one can have is with oneself.

And as for mirrors? They've made a triumphant return to my living spaces. With every look, I see a reflection of resilience, growth, and a newfound appreciation for the woman staring back. I no longer flinch from my reflection; I embrace it.

P.S. As I stand before these new mirrors installed throughout my home, I can't help but smile at the reflection looking back at me. It's a testament to a journey of heartaches, lessons, acceptance, and most importantly, self-love.