They all told me it would happen. The midwives, the consultants, the women on the street and the man in the salon. It was inevitable, they said – simply a matter of time. And now the time has come for the luscious locks I acquired during pregnancy to become a thing of the past.
My hair started falling out yesterday. And far from lamenting its loss, I’m fascinated. When I was born, I sported a fine mop of black hair. Not long afterwards, it all fell out, and I was completely bald until I was at least 18 months old. I was one of those babies that people used to trip themselves up over; “Oh he’s gorgeous! Oh it’s a girl, oh sure isn’t she just peachy!” Not knowing that I was actually adopted, strangers would stop my dad in the street and say; “You can’t deny her anyway!”. He too was bald. Eventually, my hair grew back, and I became a fair child.
As a teenager, my hair was long and thick, and what us pre-teens of the 90’s would describe as ‘fuzzy’. Long before I discovered the wonder of a straight blow dry or the GHD, I used to wish that half the hair on my head would fall out.
Fast-forward 15 years to last summer. I noticed that the bigger my bum got, the more beautiful my hair became. My waistline was expanding by the day, but my hair was looking more and more like I was “worth it”. And I took full advantage. I treated myself to a big bouncy blow dry at least once a week. I took more care with my hairstyles on TV, knowing full well that I didn’t need the camera to add 10 pounds – I had already added thrice that without the excuse of any lens pointing at me! I can’t say that my expanding size upset me at all. As an eternal size 10, I found the whole experience quite hilarious, (as did my cheeky siblings). But my hair certainly helped keep a pep in my step, especially when said step became a shuffle, and finally, a wobble.
Now that I’m beginning, very, very gradually to rediscover elements of my wardrobe, perhaps my hair has decided its job here is done. My cheekbones are visible again, and I don’t need a shiny wig to hide the extra chins. The bonus layers of locks are making their excuses and taking leave of my head, and I’m ok with that!
Good ‘heir’ day – Evanne’s little man Séimí sporting some gorgeous locks of his own!
It was the big man who noticed the dozens of strands down my back yesterday evening, (and he freaked out a bit). But it was the little man who gave me the shiny mane in the first place. Lots of things happen to your body and mind over the best part of a year when you have a baby. And, no matter how quirky or queasy those changes may be, the smiling face of the root cause makes those changes pale into complete insignificance.
Thanks for the good hair days Séimí 🙂
Chat next week friends,
E x
