The Cast Iron Park Bench

As a girl, women’s hair loss and wigs were not forever my personal obsession. Dancing was my goal. That was true until the day when my hair wouldn’t be the same because of alopecia. It became clear that I can’t sign off on the possibility of being the balding Mr. Clean of this world.

I knew I’d lost my power, bereaved of my trademarked hair do. I felt like that there was nothing I could do to reclaim fabulous style. Boy, how mistaken. Previous to receiving my new real wig, I found a wide array of silly unnatural hair weaves that made me uncomfortable. My lover Gordon told me about some dignified wig stores where I could get lace front wigs that would look great.

Then I hopped to it and surveyed the options. I discovered a diverse world of, stylish wigs. Their specially designed African American wigs suited me best.

Trying on the perfect hair piece, a girl in my place should grow bravery when accepting her alopecia. Not since I was a girl did I want to show my new earrings. This meant the world to me to proudly exert my confidence again on the job.

But maybe I’m being ridiculous carrying on like this, however looks are important to who I am. Is it possible there’s more to individuality than a great head of hair? Girl, I don’t care if it were true. Here’s the good news: women’s hair loss can be beat!

You can’t understand what these blessings have felt like. No one knows about me and my lacking hair. However so it goes, I’m very happy to be alive. Having hair again made so much better for my family and I.

Shallow people might determine my life’s course superficial. They’re wrong. What makes life so practical? Personally, the secret is working hard and my wig.

Care for Yourself.

Monica Sexton