I like my hair. It is long, with soft curls, and dyed an appealing shade of reddish brown. I am in the last year of my 40’s and my hair is longer than it has ever been in my life. Even including the time in the 70’s, when I wore my long hair tied back with one of those over-sized yarn pony tail holders. Back then, I used to run around barefoot and spent a good deal of time climbing trees. For many years, my feet were very calloused and my hair consisted of a neighborhood of knots and tangles. I just used to brush the top layer of hair to provide a presentable appearance. Every once in a while, I would have to sit in a chair while my mom painstakingly separated the tangles and the knots. Ow! Ow! Ow!
By the time I was 12 or 13, I was convinced that I had “bad hair”. In the 8th grade, I got a stylish feather cut. I used a curling iron religiously. I kept that cut for a number of years. It looked pretty good. By college, I shortened my hair even more and by the time I was 20, I had a pixie cut, which I loved. I kept my hair short for many years, no longer than a bob. By the end of college, I stopped using a curling iron.
I was still convinced that if I were to wear my hair long, it would be ugly, the way I remembered it being as a young adolescent. Then I got pregnant. I was 31 years old and my hair was growing very fast. I decided that it was time to see what hair longer than a pixie cut would look like.
After a few years, I discovered that my long hair was pretty. Also, I discovered that it was much curlier than it had been when I was younger. I didn’t have bad hair, after all. When my hair went gray, I decided to color treat it. Curly hair tends to be dry. Color dries it out more, especially the do-it-yourself stuff. I realized that if I were to keep my hair long, it would need professional help. I get my hair colored, cut, and deep conditioned every seven weeks.
When I was diagnosed with breast cancer 2 1/2 years ago, I started growing my hair even longer because I could and I wasn’t sure how much longer I would have long hair. I figured that if I had chemo and lost it all, I would never grow it back to long again. It would take years and years and at that point, not be “age appropriate”.
When chemotherapy was not recommended for me, I kept it growing. I have not stopped letting my hair grow except for a light trim, since my diagnosis. When straight, my hair now falls to the middle of my back. For the record, I believe that it has officially entered the realm of “not age appropriate”. I find that for the record, I don’t give a rat’s ass. I like my hair. It may not be with me in the future but now it’s here. It’s mine and I like it.
There are a lot of breast cancer writings about hair, what it means to a woman, and what it means when it is lost. A bald head is a dramatic difference in a person’s appearance. But hair carries so much significance, even if still remaining on one’s head.
How important is it to have good hair?
When my daughter asks my husband, “Dad, how does my hair look,” he sometimes replies, “It looks good but it would look better if you brushed it.” At this point, my daughter and I give each other knowing glances. She has curly hair, too. Brushing or combing curly hair while it’s dry breaks up the curl and to most eyes, does not look attractive. The only time I brush my hair when it is dry is to remove the tangles prior to straightening it with a flat iron. The last time I did this was a couple of months ago. My hair looked crazy and I thought it might make for a funny Facebook selfie, a kind of public service announcement explaining why curly hair is not dry brushed.
How important is hair to people?
You would not believe the amount of advice this photo elicited about how to better care for my hair. It was pretty funny. But then I realized that the people commenting had seen MANY photos of me and my hair. It had never looked like this. Perhaps I am exaggerating, but it made me wonder if the sight of a woman with “bad hair” was so surprising that people forgot how I normally look and jumped straight into an urgent mode to save me from my split ends. Suggestions of coconut oil, olive oil, etc.
Hair is really important to a lot of women. I don’t want to lose mine, I know that for sure. Maybe it SHOULDN’T be that important. But it is. And one of the lessons I am learning in my life is that lots of things “should be” a certain way but they are not. We can only work with the way things are.
So please, please, please when one of your loved ones or even yourself loses hair as a result of chemo and is feeling sad about it, think twice before saying, “This shouldn’t bother you.”
If it bothers you, it bothers you. If it doesn’t, it doesn’t. What should be is not relevant to this particular situation.
An interviewer, I think Cavett, asked Vidal Sasson to explain the relationship between hair and sex. He replied, “What do you mean? Hair IS sex..”
Julie, that’s a good quote and boy what a great marketing slogan for Vidal Sassoon.
In that case, I better do something with mine!
Mom, you are funny.
dear Elizabeth,
I’ve seen a photo of you and your beautiful hair, but did not realize it has grown so long. you are so lucky – it really is so pretty, and the color is perfect. in nearly a full year from when I lost all of my (blond) locks for the second damned time, my hair is barely 3 inches long, light and dark silver, and so curly – I can’t do a darned thing with it! I am so desperate for a new look, it’s scary – like maybe I’ll be tempted to do something drastic. how about one of those styles sported by punk rockers – shaved off on one side, then a big ‘ole cowlick sticking up off the crown of my head? maybe a little kool-ade color?! yikes! I need help…I really, really do.
much love,
Karen ooox
Karen,
I am so sorry. No one should have to go through this and you have done it twice!!
Do you think your hair would be more manageable if it was straight? You might try keratin hair straightening at a good salon. Here’s what Web MD has to say about it.
http://www.webmd.com/beauty/hair-styling/keratin-hair-straightening-treatments
I would never had guessed it, but losing my hair was and still is traumatic, 10 months later. And yes, no one knows a decent thing to say: It’ll grow back! That shouldn’t bother you! I’ll bet you like getting rid of that long hair! Wow, you look so different!
Ug.
I really like your blog. Great title! Makes me smile every time I see it.
I am so sorry. It is a lot. It is more than just hair. I wish you health and healing. I am glad you enjoy my blog. Thanks for reading!
Hi Elizabeth,
I love this post. Hair is a big deal for many of us and maybe it shouldn’t be, but it is for whatever reasons. Since cancer my hair is awful. And I hated and still hate it when I hear someone say, it’s only hair or it will grow back. And isn’t it funny the reaction you got when you posted that picture? I think your hair is amazing. I think YOU are amazing. Great post. Thank you.
Thank you! You are amazing, too!
Nancy, my hair stylist wears clip in hair extensions, made from real hair. A set costs a few hundred dollars. I only knows that she wears them because she told me. Do you think something like this would be helpful to some cancer survivors that have thin hair post chemo? It looks like some women’s hair wouldn’t be strong enough for this but others’ may be. I’m asking you because you are in touch with more people.
I love this post, Elizabeth! Your hair is so pretty. I’ve always wanted curly hair, but it was always kinda wavy with no body. Since I wear my hair short, it really looks so much better. I was scared that I would lose my hair during chemo, but I didn’t. I was very fortunate; I can’t imagine how horrific that would be.
Thanks for reading, Beth! You are the second person I know who did not lose hair from chemo. My mom’s cousin, Valerie, kept the hair on her head but temporarily lost her eyelashes. Her hair is like mine but light-colored.
I. Love. This. Post!!! I was sooooo upset over the hair thing. I grieved losing it more than the cancer itself. People thought I was just sooooooo vain. “It’ll grow back!” they said. “It’s just hair!” they said. My hair loss – regrowth post gets more clicks than any other http://lunatechchick.blogspot.com/2011/12/all-this-hairy-businessorhow-long-will.html
I love your hair! And to hell with “age appropriate”! You. Look awesome!! Thanks so much for this post.
Kimberly, you are Lunatechchick! Pleased to make your acquaintance by your “other” name.
I am glad that this post resounded with you. I knew that eventually I would write about hair but also wanted to be sensitive to the fact that I have never lost mine. (Knock on wood.)
Hair is important. It is one of the ways we recognize ourselves in the mirror.
Peace and good health to you,
Elizabeth
Reblogged my hair post & just HAD to link to this post & to your blog as theinspiration. =)
Thanks so much!
Reblogged this on Jenn in her own words… and commented:
reflections on the importance of hair
Hi Elizabeth from another Elizabeth,
Loved this about hair.
Before chemo, mine was long, brown (OK – I was covering a little grey) and wavy. It had taken me years to really like my hair, because when I was little it was golden blond and curly and I had not liked that it darkened and got straighter as I grew up. Since chemo, my hair grew back grey, baby fine, with bare and thin spots, and it breaks so easily I am afraid to try coloring or perms or even growing it long again.
I hope you never go through chemo and lose your beautiful hair.
Elizabeth, I am so sorry. No one should have to go through this. Thank you for the well wishes for my health and I wish you the same.
I love your hair. It is probably very similar to the hair I had from 10-40, certainly you describe it as I did. Prior to that I had Alice in Wonderland hair white blonde with a slight wave. Then I cut it short (I had read Little Women and donated my hair to locks of love to try and impress Jo March!), it grew back a mid brown wavy curl that I grew long and loved. Dyed it many colours across the years from flamingo pink to multicolour rainbow brite. Often orange, and once, for my wedding, I took in a Klimt painting and said ‘do my hair like that, I literally want golden curls.’
When my cancer diagnosis came through it was straight to stage 4, and I knew chemo would be rearing its head throughout the rest of my life. I grieved. So much of my visual identity was tied up in my hair. But a week or two before I started treatment I had it cut short. Super short. Elven, it was when Anne Hathaway was growing hers out after Les Mis and I sort of went for that look. And I loved it. Free and easy. For two weeks. Then bald. My smooth hairless head was like a new body part to get to know. But when I was sick I wore a wig or wrap. The bald head was another symbol of my disease, and I hated the way I looked: chemo-thin, bald and a distended belly ripe with cancer.
After chemo, though, the bald head was a symbol of what I’d survived, and I wore it with pride- rocked it, even! But I wanted to regrow the mane I had treasured, so I tried. What grew back was even curlier, not afro but serious curl. Unmanageable as it started to grow, untameable as it grew longer, my post chemo hair was never easy or luscious. Finally it grew to a length I could do something with, but it took 18 months! And within a week I heard the news: cancer spread. Chemo time again.
This time I’m approaching my baldness differently. I’m ready for it, I have a henna artist ready to ‘tattoo’ me a skull cap, and a collection of vintage turbans to compliment my wraps. It’s a cold English winter, so I need a hat for every outfit. I’m not sure whether I’ll grow it back again afterwards. I might keep the crop short, as I so loved the freedom. For me, the long hair is a symbol of my life before cancer. When I grieve its loss, what I am actually grieving for is my health, not my vanity. Maybe accepting my short hair is accepting my stage 4 condition. And I just need to move on. Or shell out £400 on that red curly wig like Merida from Brave!
Emily, thank you so much for sharing your life and thoughts with us. You sound like a wise and life-loving woman. I am so sorry you are dealing with this awful disease and I wish you the very best. Also, I really think you should get the Merida wig. It sounds brilliant.
Much love and healing to you,
Elizabeth
[…] Jen shows off her hair growth and some gorgeous family portraits. And another hair-related post by Elizabeth which ends with this important […]
You and your hair are both beautiful and I’m so glad you’ve been able to keep growing it. There is a lot more to the impact of cancer than is fully appreciated – hair doesn’t always grow back and baldness coupled with physical disfigurement play havoc, especially for women’s confidence. It’s lovely to see you so happy, healthy and confident Elizabeth and I hope we’ll see you doing your best Rapunzel impression for many years to come.
Hi Tracy! Thanks and I hope you are well.
You rock. Your hair is beautiful. Congratulations on yout heartwarming story.