I am 38 years old and have never had a haircut in my life. My hair is extremely long; it reaches past my derriere. I can say, without conceit, that it truly is my crowning gory. It is my dominant feature and the one thing that everyone notices and that I am identified by. Yes, I love my hair. I am proud of my hair and in some ways my hair defines me.
A few weeks ago I was reading an old Womans Circle Magazine about children who were diagnosed with cancer and that because of drugs and chemotherapy treatment used to combat their illnesses, many of these children lost all of their hair and were traumatically affected by that lost. To assist these children in keeping a positive attitude there is a place where hair could be contributed to make wigs for these children. Not just regular wigs but custom made, hand woven wigs that are made one at a time to fit the head of each individual child. There was a shortage of hair being contributed and they were asking for donations for hair from the public. The article went on to say that the children were so thrilled by these wigs that in some cases kids who were depressed by all the negative things that were happening to them, rallied and appeared stronger with a more positive outlook once they had their wigs.
I was moved by the article and began thinking about contributing some of my hair. It was not an easy decision by any means. As I pointed out hereinabove, my hair has always identified me. However, the more I thought about it, the more I wanted to do it.
So I called the Wig Boutique for Cancer Victims in New York and made an appointment to come in after work at 6:00. I cant remember being so nervous. Even though I really wanted to do it, it took them an hour to talk me into it. They had to get someone to hold my hand while they were doing it. We also had to negotiate the amount of hair I was going to contribute. We finally settled on 12 inches. They took off one foot of my hair, but assured me that it was enough to make one whole wig.
I feel like an appendage has been severed from my body. I am glad that I did it but it was traumatic for me. Ill get over it I know and I also savor the fact that because of my small contribution some sick child will have hair and their spirits will be raised. And, after all, it was only hair.