Roomies and Baldies

This past week I traveled to Utah for work. Landed in Sat Lake, and headed to Provo to take care of business. My company has a unique travel policy that requires employees to share a room. I recently joined a new team and not everyone was aware of the no hair situation I have going on up top. Truthfully, when I learned I was going to have to share a room, I panicked. Yes, I am comfortable sharing my baldness on the interwebs, but hair is such a key component to my professional look. Not saying that bald is unprofessional. Just saying that for me, I’m never in the office sans wig. It was most certainly going to catch my new coworker off guard to witness me transform from fab hair to nothing but scalp in a matter of seconds. Sleeping in a wig is not an option for me. I’ve tried it and it was the most uncomfortable night of sleep of my life. I need to be bare head on pillow to sleep like the angel I’m trying to be. Therefore, I knew I had to tell my roomie.

Beautiful Provo

When I saw the email confirming the travel accommodations, my stomach sank and panic set in. I sat at my desk feeling a smidge pukey with a dash of pitting, and some low-grade shakes. I decided to handle this in typical Supriya fashion and make a joke out of it. No one can sense your panic on the inside when you are all smiles and laughs on the outside. Am I right?! My email went something like this “Just a heads up, I have alopecia and look like a normal person by day, but look like a bald alien creature by night.” I then processed to use a yellow emoji face to paint the full picture.

Next, I IMd my roomie to be and let her know that I would give her fair warning before the wig came off. I shouldn’t have been surprised when she was totally cool with everything. The room sharing was not a big deal at all. Yes, I was nervous, but my roommate was so chill and awesome. I couldn’t have asked for a better stranger to be bunkies with!

I don’t know why I always feel so scared of people’s reaction to my alopecia when it is up close and personal. I assume they will be uncomfortable or offended by my scalp. Yet that’s all it is. Just a plain jane run of the mill scalp. It’s not like I’m hiding a tattoo of Tweetie bird and Taz making obscene gestures (throwback to every 90s baby who once rocked a Looney Tunes temporary tattoo). Also, I have no control over it. This is just part of me now and I need to find a way to accept the fact that other people are totally fine with it too. Yes, jokes and making fun of myself before someone can make fun of me will always be my self defense tactic. However, I need to convince myself that people aren’t going to stop, drop, and roll when they see my head. Hopefully, that day will come soon, but for now I remain a forever work in progress…

Alopecia Unleashed My Inner Diva – Lady Alopecia Guest Post

Friends, I’d like to introduce you to Lady Alopecia! I am so honored to have her take over my blog today with this AMAZING post! It won’t take long for you to figure out exactly why I am BEYOND excited to have this funny, inspiring, glitter fueled, radiant spirit guest post on my page. Lady Alopecia, your confidence and light shine through in the words you share. Thank you for being a part of my blog, and most importantly thank you for being such a wonderful and supportive baldie friend! xoxoxo

When I was growing up, my hair was a big deal. Strangers would ruffle it. Relatives would ask where the hell it had come from (cue the milkman jokes) and I’d often get stopped in the street for some randomer to tell me how unusual it was. How lucky I was to have such beautiful auburn curls.


Unsurprisingly, I grew pretty attached to my hair.

So when it decided to detach itself from me, the person who’d given it a home for 10 years, it felt like a big ol’ slap in the face.

Being a teenager with alopecia was tough. I was in boarding school and… well… bitches aren’t always cute dogs, right?! I got very good at shrinking, at hiding, at making myself invisible. I was pretty tall but managed to fold in on myself most of the time.

Still, at least the patches weren’t too bad back then. I had them under control.

But later, in my mid-20s, the patches grew bigger and bigger. Taunting me – the more I’d try to hide them, the more they’d reveal themselves.

After a few years of wig wearing, I decided that I was sick of hiding my alopecia, of feeling like I was hiding my true self, too. So I did what any rebellious soul would do – I made a statement. I told alopecia to f**k right off and stop controlling my life. And I pulled a Britney and shaved my head.

I thought I’d feel strong, liberated and fierce afterwards.

But instead I felt weak. And scared. And very very bumpy-headed.

As kids we used to have a “board race” during our school’s Sports Day. Basically, you’d have to balance a board, about the size and weight of a hardback novel, on your head and walk as fast as you could to the finish line. Like if America’s Next Top Model did relay races – only the straight-backed, flat-headed stood a chance.

Anyway, as I clapped eyes on my shiny new bald look, I realised why I’d never made it more than a few steps with that damned board! Because a bump the size of an egg rose out of my already egg-shaped head. I was like a novelty Easter egg. What had I done?!


Still, I’d made the decision to stop wearing wigs and I was sticking to it. And so I began rocking my bald head out, free from wigs or headscarves, for the first time in 8 long years.

Embracing the bald was a big risk, sure – but it definitely paid off. The support I received was phenomenal and I began feeling more comfortable in myself than I’d ever been, even with a full head of hair.

One of the best moments was returning to choir. A community choir that sang soul music (and wore a lot of sequins!), made up of women and men from all walks of life. When I joined the previous year, I knew I’d found my tribe and Wednesday evening rehearsals were the highlight of my week. After all, how can you feel down when blasting out Try a Little Tenderness with some of the warmest, most inspirational people you’ve ever met?

They’d only known me with my wigs and headscarves so I was nervous going back into that room. But the flurry of hugs and the amazing words I received lifted me right up. I laughed and joked about my baldiness and for the first time, I learned to speak openly about my alopecia without welling up.

Over the next few weeks, I got so used to my new look that I forgot all about it at times! Until I’d glimpse a pale beach ball bobbing past a shop window and I’d realise it was just my reflection. Oh well.

The funny thing was, once I’d accepted my alopecia, my hair grew back!

Tentatively, a downy fuzz spread across my scalp. Within a few weeks, I was less of a Mr Potato Head, more of a Donald Duck. Until eventually I had a head full of the short stuff…

… For a grand total of 2 months. Then a sneaky patch popped up on the back of my head. Which spread…and spread…and you can guess the rest. This time, I took control early on. I went to the hairdresser, asked her to shave my remaining hair into a mohawk style and embraced my new look.


And you know what? I’m pretty happy with how it all turned out! Because I’ve finally found my own voice, my own style, instead of trying on others’ for size.

Example 1

I’ve always been partial to a bit of glitter – even more so when I joined that choir. But shaving my head gave me permission to stop playing safe and to start afresh. To use my bald head as a blank canvas for all kinds of colourful creations.

Nowadays, I decorate my mohawk with flowers, feathers, fairy lights… you name it, I’ve tried it. My friends even know me as The Glitter Fairy. And I carry a vial of the shiny stuff in my bag at all times. Just in case. 😉


Example 2

Festivals are my favourite things on earth. I used to go to them with flowery headbands, or a colourful wig if I was feeling particularly cray-cray. And now? I spend the entire 3 days in a range of elaborate costumes – homemade wigs, sequinned wings, elaborate fake eyelashes made for drag queens but claimed by me… let’s just say, I’m no longer trying to hide!


The thing is, I’ve spent so much of my life trying to blend in. But now that I’ve accepted my alopecia, even learned to love it in some ways, I’m happy to stand out.

Sure, there are days when I get sick of the attention.

Like when I’m sweating like crazy, cycling in 100° heat and an entire cafe of Vietnamese people turns to point and laugh at my shiny head (mohawks don’t stand too proudly in the heat). Just like there are times when I’d give anything to complain about a bad hair day.

But having alopecia has led to so many positive experiences. And it’s made me braver in every sense. Not just dealing with this shitty condition and with all it entails – but being able to put myself out there, to not worry what people think and to express myself in whatever way I choose. Sometimes the experiment pays off; other times I look less like Furiosa and more like Sideshow Bob. But that’s all part of the adventure, right?!

After all, the Björks and the Grace Joneses of this world don’t shy away from the limelight. Or from their wonderful weirdness, their need to embrace and display the strange. They’re the people who inspire me to connect with my inner diva. And to help others embark on their own shiny, glitter-filled journey.

That’s why, bald and bold, hairfree and carefree… I’m proud to be Lady Alopecia.


Connect with Lady Alopecia:

Lady Alopecia is a copywriter, yoga teacher and alopecian currently living in Hoi An, Vietnam. Read more about her adventures on her website or follow her on Instagram.


Thank You Mom

Dear Mom,

I would have never gotten through this alopecia adventure without you. When I felt like giving up, you were always in my corner. Through my tears you would always tell me that you wished you could have alopecia instead. You would have taken every ounce of hair loss and pain I was experiencing to give me my happiness back. You always used your motherly senses to know exactly when my low days were back. When the darkness was creeping back in. Even when I was trying to give an academy award winning performance of hiding my sadness, you always sensed it. I could facetime you and tell you I was fine 10000 times in a row, but those conversations were always followed up with texts like, “Hi Sup. You sounded low today. Call later if you want to talk.” Short, simple, but so meaningful and exactly what I needed to hear. I always feared my sadness was a burden, but you made it clear that my happiness is all that mattered to you. You were all the way in Ohio, but you did everything to let me know you were there for me. You would have hopped on a plane the second I needed you. You made sure the cost of wigs was never something I’d have to worry about. You and Dad did everything you could to help me get my happiness back. I couldn’t have done it without you Mom. I wouldn’t be where I am without you. I would have given up, but instead I am thriving. Thank you, Mom. I wish every child in the world could have a Mom like you. I feel so lucky to have you! Love you so much!


Off To The Races

Once upon a time, I was an avid endurance runner. You know the kind. I was one of those people who thought it was fun to spend a Saturday morning running 13.1 miles to get a medal, all the glory, and a sweet gram pic of me crossing the finish line with my hands in the air waving around like I just don’t care. I had a very standard race day look:

1. Nike running crops
2. Athletic running top (the long-sleeved purple target option for cold runs)
3. Brooks running cap
4. New balance running kicks

I’d throw my hair into a pony and off I’d go. It was through these races that I met a fellow running loon, Troy. I was running a Kooky Spooky Halloween ½ marathon and noticed a runner who seemed to be having the TIME OF HIS LIFE. He was singing along to his tunes, snapping selfies, posing for the race course photographers. Through the power of Instagram hashtags, I found his account. After that race, we would frequently bump into each other at future races. Troy knew the pre-alopecia Supriya and all of her pony tail glory.


Fast forward to the hot chocolate 15K in October of 2015. This was my first race post alopecia. I had decided that I would just maintain my normal race day look sans pony. At this point, I wasn’t comfortable working out in a wig. I only had my Follea, and there was no way I was wearing that piece for a run. I could barely ride in a hot car without it turning my entire head into a fountain of sweat. I decided to just plop a cap on my bald head and go. I figured, it would look just like I had my hair pulled back in a pony tail anyhow. The art of deception!


The race started, and my friend Michelle and I took off. The hot chocolate is a blast of a race. Snacks and treats throughout the entire course and a piping hot bowl of chocolate fondue at the finish line. The best part of running is the food! Am I right?! In typical Denver running addicts anonymous fashion, I saw Troy throughout the race. In typical Troy fashion, he snapped many fun “runfies” (runner selfies for you non-running folk).

When the race completed, I received notifications that I had been tagged in some of Troy’s photos. I excitedly scrolled to the pics and froze. I wanted to throw up. It did not look like I was wearing my hair pulled back in a pony tail. It looked like I was the baldest of bald chicks who slapped a hat on her head to hide it. I panicked. I hadn’t publicly told anyone other than my close circle that I was bald. I was so scared that someone would see me in these pics and my secret would be out. I untagged myself and cried like I often did at the beginning of my alopecia journey. I wanted the old days back. The days where I could feel my pony tail bouncing on my back, while I attempted to PR a run. The days where I felt like I looked like a bad ass in every race pic. This was the first time I felt embarrassed and ashamed of what I had allowed myself to look like on the race course.


Chocolate Fueled Racing w/ Michelle


I recently reconnected with Troy and he was kind enough to send me these pics. When I look at them now, I realize something…I do look like a bad ass in these. I look strong, I look healthy, I look happy! I look like I’m doing something that not a lot of people can do and loving the shit out of it. I look the way anyone should look when they are running a race with HOT CHOCOLATE in the title. I couldn’t see it then, but I can see it now. It is just another reminder that hindsight is 20/20 with alopecia. In the hardest moments its so hard to see anything other than BALD, BALD, BALD. It is so hard to look in a mirror or look at a photo and think positive thoughts. It is so easy to look at yourself and call yourself ugly. It is easy because you actually feel those things. It is not until you take a step back and let yourself heal that you start to see things for what they are. Beauty is not hair. Beauty is loving yourself the way you are. Beauty is the times you stayed strong when you didn’t think you could last for another second. Beauty is when you can find happiness and peace within yourself as you are. To all my baldie boos who aren’t there yet, please keep fighting to get there. I was you too!! I didn’t think happiness was ever going to be in the cards again. I didn’t think I’d every be okay with alopecia. I didn’t think that this day would ever come, but it did!! This means it will come for you too!! Keep the faith! xoxoxo

Thank You Troy.

Brows Or Bust

You guys. I’ve been sick as hell this past week. I thought I could push through and force this thing out of me until Friday night hit. I had the energy of a sea slug riding the struggle bus. I went to bed with the chills and woke up in the middle of the night with a fever. I got up to pee and ended up laying on the bathroom floor covered in sweat. When I woke up, I took my butt to the urgent care and got myself some antibiotics. I proceeded to spend the rest of my Saturday horizontal. I cannot remember the last time I was so worthless. Walking to the kitchen took all of my energy and I could barely eat. Luckily the antibiotics seem to be working because I woke up Sunday morning feeling better. By better I mean that I can stand for 5 minutes without requiring a chair and/or bed to crash in. I’m still far from 100%, but I think it is safe to say I am on the mend. *knocks on wood*

My boyfriend was getting ready to take me to urgent care when I said, “Wait let me draw on my eyebrows first!” I walked my feeble body to the bathroom and did some speed eyebrow drawing. I also slapped on some mascara for good measure. Did this make me look any better? HECK NO. I still looked sick AF because I was sick AF! So, I have to ask myself why?! It was literally 7:15 in the morning on a Saturday. What was I so scared of?? First of all, half the world is barely awake at 7:15 on a Saturday. They surely aren’t at the urgent care. Second of all, who cares if they are?! If they are there, they are likely dealing with their own medical issue and could care less if I drew on my eyebrows that day. Lastly, if someone did see me in this state, it would most likely be a stranger so why does it even matter? It is in passing. It is someone who I may see for a few minutes and will never see again for the rest of my life. Why was it SO important for me to put on brows and mascara? I don’t really have an answer for this. I think it is just one of my underlying alopecia insecurities. Maybe one day I will give no fucks and not give it a second thought, but today I still give some fucks and brows and mascara is as minimalist as I get.

Wigs And Insurance

Every now and then I have dreams that my hair has grown back. Last night was one of those nights. My hair was back and I was so excited that it was FINALLY long enough to wear in a sloppy bun! For whatever reason Miley Cyrus was also in my dream and she was stoked for me. Needless to say, I woke up with no sloppy bun and no hype girl Miley. Shoot!

Today I wanted to write about alopecia and insurance. When I lost all of my hair, I was shocked to find out my insurance did not provide coverage for wigs. After some research I learned that this is an all too common thing in the alopecia world. Apparently having your immune system attack all of your hair follicles leaving you with less hair than you had at birth is not reason enough to provide coverage. It is cruel and so completely unfair. Especially since human hair wigs typically cost $1000+ on a good day. Reality is that most HH wigs are at least $2000 – $5000 depending on length, density, and cap. If you want a cap that adheres to your scalp without tape or glue, you have to shell out the big bucks. The human hair wig industry is designed for the rich and fabulous, but alopecia doesn’t give a crap about your income bracket.

So, what should you do? Try to get your insurance to pay for it even if they say they won’t! I’m not saying that this will work for everyone, and even if they decide to pay, it is very likely that they will only pay a percentage. Either way, money is money and its worth a shot! I submitted a claim for my first wig and ended up getting 6% back! This sounds like nothing, but my first wig was expensive AF and 6% was WAY better than nothing. Especially since insurance said they’d cover 0. Here is what you should do:

• Get a prescription or a letter from your doctor explaining the reason why you need a cranial prosthesis. This should include a diagnosis code.
• Purchase your wig from a salon that knows how to create an insurance friendly invoice. The receipt should not say ‘wig’ anywhere on it. Your purchase should be billed out as a ‘cranial prosthesis’ (because that is exactly what it is).
• The salon will need to include the proper insurance code along with their Tax ID.
• Submit the claim and hope for the best!
• If they deny it, CALL! Call and talk to supervisors or whoever you need to until they understand that this is not a normal claim. My claims have always been denied until they get sent to the complex billing department. Be your own advocate! A no does not always mean no. To me a no just means you haven’t talked to the right person in the department who can help.

After my first wig, my company’s insurance switched over and they now offer partial coverage. Even so, it has taken me months to get each claim processed correctly. Each time it is initially denied. Then after months of phone calls it gets approved and processed. Every. Single. Time. This is why I say you MUST be your own advocate!!

For me, beautiful wigs helped me with my healing. If it weren’t for Follea, Yaffa, and Shuly, I don’t think I’d be at this place of peace that I am. I want insurance to get on board with helping every alopecian get to this same place of peace by eliminating that financial hardships that come along with hair loss. My hope is that one day they will hop on board, but until then keep fighting for yourselves friends!

Me + Google = Bad News Bears

This week has been a whirlwind of stress stemming from a visit to the rheumatologist. I had my first appointment with a new rheumatologist last week. Long story short, I’ve been having a lot (some days excruciating) pain in my neck. Occasionally I notice a bit of numbness in my hands as well. Since its pretty common for a person with one autoimmune disease to have multiple, I asked my primary care doc to run a rheumatoid arthritis panel just in case. Nothing indicated I had RA, but there was a lab value that was a bit off and my doc recommended I go to a rheum.

I instantly loved my rheumatologist. She was so attentive and patiently listened to my hodge podge of weird symptoms. She made the decision to run a whole gamut of labs and take some x-rays of my hands and neck just to make sure everything was a-okay. About 10 vials of blood later, I was on my merry way to finish my day.

As most practices do these days, my rheum had a patient portal. Like any sane (by sane I mean nutball) human would do, I started checking the portal ~58 times a day to see if my labs had populated. Thursday at 3pm I noticed they were there!! I assumed that I had a clean bill of health since no one had called. As I scanned the results, I noticed two tests that stood out. The first was an ANA (anti-nuclear antibody) test that was marked as “positive/abnormal”. The second was an anti-dsDNA (anti-double stranded DNA) that had the result “high”. Like any rational (again by rational I mean nutball) non-medical professional would do, I went to the googles. I had to know IMMEDIATLEY what these results meant and I started my research. Welp by 4pm on Thursday I had diagnosed myself with Lupus. No matter which way I tried searching, everything with a positive ANA and a high anti-dsDNA meant Lupus. I was convinced. I even shed a couple tears because according to google, Lupus could be livable or it could be terrifying as fuck.

Friday, I called my doctor at 8am on the dot and left a message with her MA. In my most calm and collected voice, I politely left a voicemail asking for a callback to discuss my labs. I assumed they were going to call me soon anyhow to drop the bomb. An hour passed, then 2, then, 4 on and on. At 2pm I called again. To give a friendly reminder that I was waiting for a callback. While in my head my wheels were spinning a mile a minute. I literally spent 90% of the day googling these labs and googling Lupus trying to figure out if my self-diagnosis was true of false. Remember when I told you I’m a nutball? Facts people. Facts.

At 4:15 my doctor called me back. Turns out she was waiting on one other test result before calling me. She was hoping they would have come in before she called, but they hadn’t. She started to list of everything that was good about my labs. My stomach started to sink. I knew this drill. It is like management 101. When you’re giving an employee feedback, you’re supposed to tell them all the good things first before you clobber them with the bad. That’s what this had to be right? Finally, she got to the two tests I was dreading. Do you want to know what she said? She said, “These numbers are slightly elevated but it’s nothing to be worried about at this time.” If I wasn’t sitting passenger in my BF’s car, I would have probably done a standing back tuck. Well at least I would have imagined myself doing one in my head. I immediately told her about how I had spent the last 24 hours living in the google hole. She profusely apologized for waiting to call. I couldn’t be upset, because it made sense that she wanted to wait for all labs prior to calling. She had no idea how much experience I have interweb sleuthing. During our first visit, I mentioned to her that I have anxiety. I think she severely underestimated just how panicked my anxiety can make me. Ooops!

I did get some very interesting feedback though. She said my cervical spine (where I have most of my pain) looked off (well she used a fancier medical term) on the x-ray. She asked the radiologist about it and he said it looked like I had experienced some sort of blunt force trauma. A car accident or a fall of some sort. Then it hit me. Back in 2015 I took a horrible fall during CrossFit. My hands slipped off the pull-up bar while doing a movement called toes to bar. I flew off the bar and landed on concrete. My lower back hit first and then my head/neck followed. The ER had scanned my lower back, but never my neck. It is very likely that the pain issues I’m experiencing now are a result of that. I will be getting an MRI soon, and will have more info to report to all of you at that point.


For today, I am celebrating that google and I were as wrong as can be. I am celebrating that the only major autoimmune disease I have to deal with is one that ONLY takes my hair. How lucky that I can have my health in all other aspects. As for the labs and the future, welp I’m not totally sure. We are going to keep an eye on them and make sure they don’t spike. If they do, then I will cross that bridge when I get there. For now, I will continue counting my blessings and continue living my best bald life.

Dating In The City

Last week my mindset was all off and I spent an entire weekend being jealous of every girl with hair on Instagram. On Monday I reset my noodle. In the past couple weeks, I’ve been so caught up with life and trying to figure out next steps that I’ve let gratitude journaling go on the back burner. Now I’m back at it AND I downloaded a gratitude app to help me focus on the things I DO have throughout the day. I may not have hair, but I surely have a lot of other things going for me. I know some people think law of attraction and gratitude is mumbo jumbo, but for me it has always helped me turn my frown upside down.

Today I wanted to write a post about everyone’s favorite topic…DATING with alopecia…dun dun duuuuun. I’m going to be honest with you, I’ve never been a good dater. In the past I’ve been told I have a “broken picker”, but the reality of the situation was that my picker was broken, twisted, and backwards with a mind of its own. If you followed my blog from day one, you know that alopecia entered my world at the end of a very toxic relationship. Boy bye. Hair bye. Rude! In my opinion, this is no coincidence. I’m not going to say I was perfect because I was far from it and I made some massive mistakes. However, I probably would have avoided a ton of poor life decisions, heartache, disappointment, and hurt had I left many moons before the relationship combust. I pulled the classic girl move and stayed with the hope that he would eventually become the man he was man he was when we first. Has there ever been a relationship in history where this game plan actually worked? Why do we ladies always do this? I stayed when I was crying every day. I stayed when every day was filled with unbearable anxiety in anticipation for the next hurtful thing that was most certainly going to happen. I stayed when trust was broken, and bridges were burnt. I stayed when I completely lost myself and was acting out in ways that I can’t even believe were me. In ways that go completely against my core beliefs and morals. This toxicity imprinted on my body. My body handled the emotional strain until it couldn’t anymore and started to manifest the pain physically. I believe this is what triggered me to lose my hair. I believe the universe was grabbing be by the shoulders, violently shaking me to get my life together, and begging me to let go and move one. Begging me to fill my life with people who healed me and mentally cut this person out. I finally listened and moved the hell on! Thank you, little baby Jesus!

After losing my hair, I assumed I’d be single for the rest of my existence. After losing my eyebrows, I completely gave up on ever finding a life partner. I could not imagine a man being okay with a chick who looked like a little brown alien when her hair and makeup came off. I didn’t like looking at myself in the mirror, so I couldn’t imagine a guy looking at me and thinking, “Oh yeah! Sign me up for that!” I had succumbed to the fact that the only men in my life would be pets. I got to a point where I even made peace with this. To me it was a win win. A pet couldn’t yell at me, put me down, lie to me, or stomp on my heart. Seemed like a no brainer!
One day I realized I didn’t want to be alone forever. I think I always knew this, but I finally admitted it to myself. As many times as I joked that nobody wanted a bald/eyebrowless gal, I secretly hoped that there was a nice guy out there who did. I decided I’d join the millennials and download the apps. I tried a few…tinders, bumbles, coffee meets bagels etc. Downloading these apps made me realize I’m the WORST at online dating. I’ve never been the casual dating kinda gal, so having to form a connection with someone through an app was my worst nightmare. There was also the big bald elephant in the room. Should I be forthcoming about my hair loss on my profile? Should I post a bald pic? Should I tell the guy in our first message? Is it rude of me not to tell him? What happens after I share this fact? Is he going to ghost? Is he going to be mean to me? Is he going to tell me to keep my wig and makeup on at all times? Is he going to tell me I’m unattractive when I’m not done up?

I was not used to dating good men, and I assumed the worst of the worst of every guy I swiped on. This is why I pretty much never swiped right. Every time I opened an app my head flooded with these concerns. Every now and then I would get enough courage to message with a guy, but I would immediately ghost before he had the chance to ask me on a date. I would tell my friends it was because the conversation was boring. The truth was that I was too scared to let myself be vulnerable and share my truth with a man who could hurt me. There was a time in my early 20s where I had men in my life who were so cruel to me about my weight. I remembered how badly it crushed me. Yet it was also something I could control. As unhealthy as this sounds, I knew I could lose weight if I never wanted a man to be mean to me about my weight again. However, I had no control over my alopecia. If a man was mean to me about my bald head, there was nothing I could do change it. There was nothing I could do to make him love me. It sounds so f’d up and it is. What I should have thought is, “If I a man is mean to me about ANYTHING, BOY BYE! See you never!” Instead I let these fears and insecurities hold me back from putting myself out there.


After my 35th birthday (after much gentle nudging from my BFFs) I FINALLY said yes to going out with two different guys I matched with on good ol’ Tinder. I made the decision not to tell either of them about my alopecia before the date.

Date 1
Let’s call him Gaston. Dude…Gaston was very touchy. (red flag) Like bro back off touchy. We were at a non-boozy brunch on a Sunday afternoon. Keep your hands to yourself sir! I had been out of the dating game for so long that I didn’t know if this was what the kids were doing these days. We were sitting next to each other at the bar of a brunch place, and I moved my bangs out of my face. Welp his first instinct was to reach over and move my bang out of my face. In doing so, he immediately touched my wig and froze, and I froze. My sweat mustache instantly started beading up. He looked at me and said, “Are you? Is that a…” to which I responded by shouting “I HAVE ALOPECIA!!” Played it really cool cow girl. He quickly asked what alopecia was and I explained. I was a nervous wreck. It was not in my plan to talk about any of this. I was shocked to realize he was okay with it. He even said it was cool that I could change my hair up with and wear different styles anytime I wanted. I told him I wanted to get a short wig, and he said “No! I like my girls with long hair” (reg flag) Then he randomly said, “You know what, nobody is perfect. I’ll tell you something about me…………..I’m lactose intolerant.” YOU GUYS. HE WAS NOT KIDDING AROUND. He was comparing my hair loss to him getting the toots after eating cheese. (RED FLAG) Finally at the end of the date, he scooped me up like a small child in the parking lot. (red flag) So yeah, that was the end of that.

Date 2
Let’s call him Joe Camel. This guy was super nice. We met at a bar to grab a beer and just chatted and laughed the night away. He stopped the conversation to take off his hat and tell ME that HE was bald!! He wanted to warn me incase that was a deterrent!!! I was shook. I immediately responded with, “Well I have alopecia and I am bald too!!!” We had a laugh about it and just went on with the conversation. The date was very fun, but he was smoker (spew). He even left the date to smoke a cig. I wasn’t feeling a romantic spark, and this is why I declined a date two. He was a great guy though, and I’m sure he is out there making some gal happy now.

Shortly after that, I threw in the towel on online dating. I would keep swiping here and there, but had completely lost interest in trying to connect with people via an app. Even though my first two dates were totally cool with my alopecia, my fears about people’s reaction to this disease paralyzed my dating progress.

I bet you’re wondering how the heck I got me a man without online dating. Welllllll…that is a story for another day 😊 I will share a few things about him though! I’ve never in my life been with a man who is so sweet, kind, and caring with my heart. My cat LOVES him! He is my best friend and he makes me feel like the prettiest girl in the entire world no matter what I look like. I could be done up to the nines or a hot mess morning alien face. He always makes me feel so loved no matter what and my heart is so full. I’d say my picker is finally fixed!!

I want my fellow alopecians to know that there are good humans out there who WILL love you and all your alopecia beauty. Having no hair just gives you a leg up because you can quickly weed out the people who don’t genuinely care about you for you. If someone is awful to you about your hair loss, that is 10000000% a reflection on themselves and has NOTHING to do with you. When someone is kind and accepting, that is the kind of person you DESERVE to have! Don’t sell yourselves short and keep the faith!

I got the baldie blues

gretchen mean girls
All The Feels

I’m having one of those weekends where I feel jealous of girls with hair. I am emotionally cutting and scrolling hair envy pics on Instagram that are causing a giant jealous knot to build in my stomach. Since starting this blog, I’ve found it easier and easier to be positive about this disease. I’ve met so many rad chicks and dudes who are killing the alopecia game. They inspire me daily and have helped me accept this for what it is. But today I’m just feeling annoyed. When this all started, I always assumed my hair would come back. Now, I am less than 2 months shy of my FOUR year goodbye hairaversary. You’d think by now I wouldn’t even care. Yet today I scrolled page after page on Instagram feeling envious. This feeling of envy was immediately followed by a feeling of guilt. Guilt because so many of my friends are going through medical journeys that are so much harder, so much scarier, so much more trying. Guilt knowing that I have my health yet am sitting here throwing a pity party for no good reason. So yeah, I suppose its just one of those days where my sensitivity is at a level 847 billion. What do my fellow alopecians do when you have the baldie blues?

Alopecian Working Woman

Imagine this. Your hair is falling out by the handful. There is not a second of the day that passes where hair is not falling all over you. Nothing is stopping it. All you want to do is curl up in a ball under a cover and hide from the world. But shit, you can’t do that. You’ve got to pull your life together and go to work. Heck man, you’ve got bills to pay! Doctor appointments are not cheap, and insurance will laugh at you for wanting to get your experimental treatments covered. This is life with alopecia. This was my life with alopecia.


I had been working at my job for 4.5 years when I lost my first handful of hair. In fact, I was getting ready for work when it happened. I was on a conference call the day I realized the hair on my arms was gone. I was in my office cafeteria when I tearfully begged my doctor’s nurse to squeeze me in for an appointment to figure out what the heck was going on. I was in my cubicle the first time somebody panicked when they saw me and thought I had cancer. I was at the doctor’s office an hour before going to work when I learned that my immune system had fully turned on me and was going to more than likely take all my hair. The point is, alopecia and my job had somehow become super intertwined.


So how the heck did I find a way to balance the struggles of work with the struggles of alopecia?
1. I shaved the last of my hair and started wearing a wig. You can’t be distracted by hair falling on you when there is no hair to fall. Wigs can be a challenge and require their own adjustment period. They can get hot during the day, they can itch, they can feel uncomfortable. For me, it was worth it to just feel a bit more like myself. It was worth it to not have people see me as this Gollum looking chick on a quest for a ring, and see me as the way I used to (sorta) see myself.
2. I found a coworker friend family. Basically, I have a hype squad. It is pretty lucky if you ask me. If I was having a day where the struggle of transforming into a little bald alien was making me want to cry, I had my pick of friend cubicles that I could duck into to shed a tear or 8000.
3. I got help. My depression was the worst of the worst when this all went down. My morning ritual consisted of me taking a picture of my head to see if there were any changes and then crying. Taking a shower and losing disgusting amounts of hair under the water and then crying. Looking at my hair in the rearview mirror of my car and then crying. Getting to work and walking into a bathroom stall and then crying. You get the picture here. It was a year and a half of releasing enough tears to start my own bottled salt water business. Jokes aside, my mental health was completely shot. I had thoughts of wishing semi-trucks would hit me on my drive to work to end it all. It was that bad. Finally, I made the best decision of my life. I found a psychologist. Alopecia is such a crazy disease. It effects your hair, but it truly can take a toll on your mental health. I know this from my own experience. I know this from the posts I read in the alopecia support group I am in. I know this from the messages I receive on my Instagram. I know that so many of my fellow alopecians are struggling and are having the same if not worse thoughts. I’m telling you friends; a little therapy goes a long ass way. Especially if you are career driven. It will give you a way to deal with your emotional struggles so you can come into work and be your best you. I’m not talking about the fake smile on the outside, weeping on the inside you (case and point me). I’m talking about the real smile on the outside, mostly smiles on the inside, ready to make that money you. Alopecia is a jerk who can take your hair, but it should not be the thing that takes your promotion!! Plus, wigs are hella expensive and you’re going to need that promotion money if wigs are your jam. 😊 But seriously, please, please, please get help if you’re struggling with this disease. Life is too short, you deserve to be happy, you deserve to have success, you deserve to have it all! I can’t emphasize this enough.

Pre-work alopecia pic

4. I opened up. At first, alopecia was my big secret. My coworker hype squad knew, but nobody else did. I expended a lot of energy hiding. I was perpetually afraid that someone would figure it out. I felt guilty if someone complimented my hair because I knew it wasn’t MY hair, it was my wig. I lied and told people I got extensions when I got a new longer wig. I was so scared that people would notice that my hairline periodically shifted throughout the day. I was scared that I’d accidently wipe my drawn-on eyebrow off while sitting at my desk. I thought for sure someone would look at me and realize my eyelashes did not exist. Constant anxiety. Then one day, I shared my story on Facebook. I made post public, and many coworkers who weren’t my fb friends could see it. The support blew my mind. It makes me wonder what I was so afraid of. Let’s say hypothetically, someone chose to be mean or shitty about it. Doesn’t that speak more about them as a person than me as a baldie? Now a days I’m very open about my alopecia at work. The energy that I used to waste hiding my bald girl secrets, I can now use to grow my career. What I realized is that I am a strong independent woman who don’t need no bald secretes to succeed!!

Working Woman

I share my story to help. I wish there was a one sized fits all solution for alopecia struggles. I wish I could wave a wand over all my struggling baldies out there and help you get to where I am now. Sadly, its just not that simple. It is a journey and it takes time to find your new normal at your job or elsewhere. Never forget that your emotions are valid, your struggle is valid, it is not just hair, and you deserve a great freaking life!!!!!! You deserve to go into work and crush your job. Even if you’ve lost your happiness and drive along the way, I truly hope you never give up the fight to find it. You will find it. This I can promise you. Lots of love to you all!! Love, your little Baldie Boo.