In the shower today, my hair started to fall out.
I'd been waiting for it, but with each passing day of not losing a single strand, I alluded myself to thinking that I would be some superhero chemo patient who kept her hair. But...
Apparently, I'm what the oncologist referred to as "average." The "average" chemo patient starts to lose their hair by the second treatment. Well, I have my second treatment this week.
As I felt strands of hair between my fingers, and the tears started to flow, I thought back to my life with my hair. And I felt a sudden need to apologize to my locks.
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Dear Hair:
We've been together a long time now. But we need to talk. It's not you; It's me. I'm what they call "average." We're going to have to go our separate ways for awhile, but don't worry, I'll come back for you. In the meantime, I wanted to say that I'm sorry.
I'm sorry for perming you in 1991 at the tender age of 10. It was a mistake, and for the frizzy curls you didn't deserve, I'm sorry.
I'm sorry for not learning my lesson and perming you again in 1995. Let's just leave it at that.
I'm sorry for not appreciating your length and always wanting to cut you.
I'm sorry for not appreciating the natural brunette color you so desperately wanted to be. And for the torture I put you through in trying to change the color.
I'm sorry for the at-home highlights and the terrible cap procedures.
I'm sorry for the entire first year of college when the University's
water system was overflowing with chlorine and it inadvertently dyed you
green.
I'm sorry for the time in college when I wanted to get you high-lighted, but didn't have a ton of money. I went to a walk-in salon and walked out a strange shade of yellow.
I'm sorry for the years of trying to do it myself and turning you a rainbow of different colors, ranging from yellow to green to orange to black.
I'm sorry I didn't appreciate you. Now, I'm just sorry that you're leaving."They say" you'll come back even better than you were before. Either way, just come back soon. I'll miss you.
