Hair. Everywhere. On her pillow, in the bathroom, in the shower when she washed. She knew it must happen but it didn’t make it easier.
She was constantly torn between annoyance – she felt as if she were vacuuming every day – and sorrow. She’d always been so proud of her hair, she’d always found it to be her most enticing feature, she’d taken great care of it and now…

She cried. They always said that the treatment was aggressive, that it would make her tired and weak. But they never really talked about how it took away your sense of being a woman. She’d always had long hair, beautiful brown locks; every single photo in the house showed her sporting her silky hair. Prom, graduation, her wedding…

“Are you ok honey?”
She turned her tear-filled eyes towards her husband: he didn’t seem to look at her with anything but love. The thinning volume on her head didn’t appear to disturb him as much as it did her. And yet.
“I can’t stand it anymore.” She opened her hand, holding a handful of brown fine hair. He kissed her brow. “Can you shave the rest?”
She chocked on the words.
“Are you sure?”
“No. But it’s going to drive me mad.”

So he pulled his clipper out and proceeded to shave her hair off. She kept her eyes closed, as the buzzing sound resounded in her ears and skull. It tickled when it caressed her skin. She didn’t move until he whispered he was done.
Heart pounding she opened her eyes and cried. She didn’t recognize herself… She was bald, like the day she was born. It made her eyes look as if they were even deeper than before. She looked sick. She was sick but she hadn’t thought it would be so obvious without hair.
“You’re beautiful love.”

He surrounded her with his arms, his lips resting on her hairless head.
“I look like a sick woman.”
“You look like a warrior. Like a woman who will overcome the obstacles she’s faced with. And you are the woman I love. I would recognize her anywhere.”
Again her eyes filled with tears.
“Thank you.”
He picked her up as if she weighed nothing – who was she kidding? It wasn’t only hair she’d lost in the past month – and brought her to bed.


In response to Linda G Hill’s stream of consciousness Saturday prompt Hair and to the Daily Post writing prompt Recognize

3 Comments Add yours

  1. Lorraine says:

    This is a beautiful story of love and coming to terms with life. I too have lost a lot of my hair — but not due to cancer treatments. My head is just too lumpy, bumpy for the Yul Brenner look. Laughing. I can so identify with your character’s mourning the loss of her hair.
    Great characterization and story telling.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you 🙏🏻.
      I used to have lots of hair and long too but lost it in my early 20s. I’ve kept them short and it actually suits so I’m fine with it 😉.


      1. Lorraine says:

        It’s the not growing back that hurts. I’ve shed hair before, but it returned. The scary “part” (excuse the pun) is that eventually it will all be gone.
        Glad you came to terms with your hair loss, and found that short suits you.

        Liked by 1 person

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