A Naked Picture

I wanted to post a picture of me after I had lost my hair. I had not seen a picture of me with no hair since that time. I didn’t know how I would feel to see me then. I went through all my external hard drives looking for pictures and I couldn’t find any. I gave up; maybe there were no pictures chronicling my breast cancer journey. I had found a couple of me wearing a wig, which I have posted.

When I was bald.

I hid behind my wigs.

I hid behind my smile.

I hid from cancer. If I didn’t have to look at it, it wasn’t real.

I mentioned to my son I had been looking for pictures of that time. He said, “I have one of you and Uncle Cliff.” I was surprised. I am not sure how he ended up with one but it was a relief to know there was a surviving picture. It was not hard to look at the picture of me even with no makeup, no sleep, nauseated and bald. It was hard to look at the mask I knew I was wearing. I could see in my eyes the fear and the exhaustion of trying to be strong.

During the time I was going through treatments, I was never bald in public. That would have been too hard. I would have felt naked. People would occasionally ask me what I looked like bald and I would whip off my wig and show them. I acted as if I didn’t mind. I would laugh and announce, “Who knew I had a perfect shaped head under all that hair!” When I showed myself with no hair – I always waited for the reaction. I always wondered if I would scare people or they would see the pieces of me I had hidden behind my hair. People always said I was beautiful without my hair when I did this, I just never believed them. My hair was lovely and it drew attention away from my insecurities.

I often talk about how I lost my hair and how it felt to have the part of me that had always defined who I was, gone in an instant. I have talked about the four different style wigs and how each wig showed a different piece of my personality. The Rachel wig was the proper Cathleen, the Phoebe wig was the badass Cathleen. Zoe was the true Cathleen and Julia was the wild Cathleen. Wearing these wigs and recognizing the different personalities in each, helped me to find who I truly was – to find my authentic self. These wigs were my shield and protectors.

What I’ve never really talked about how it felt to be bald.

My head was always cold.

I had to wear soft knitted caps. Not everything would work on my head, many things hurt. Many things were too scratchy.

I saw a cancer patient when I saw my baldhead.

I felt naked.

I felt fear. I rushed through my days pretending I was fine but when the wig came off and the reality of my cancer looked back at me from the mirror … I wondered if I would die. I wondered if I would be cured. I wondered if I would die never knowing what it was like to be loved for who I was under the hair. I wondered what was my purpose for existing. Would I die and be forgotten, never having make a difference in the lives of others? I wondered if my kids would grow up without a mother. I wondered if they would forget how much I had loved them. I wondered if they would forget me. I wondered so many things that it makes me cry even today writing about it.

Being bald was the most vulnerable I had been in my life.

Being bald changed my life.

I found I was more than my hair.

BaldMe

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