Fast facts (if you don’t have time to read the full post): We are on LAST CALL for “Fuck cancer! Enjoy rainbows!” glitter rainbow stickers! I am closing the pre-order form on Wednesday, April 6. We have sold over 275 stickers so far. Holy fuck, you delightful humans who hate cancer. You are all so sensational. Click here to order your stickers. I am also losing my hair in large quantities now. This is the week we will have to shave my head. Fuck.

TO THE LONG VERSION!

It shouldn’t feel cathartic to pull my hair out in the wind, but it is. Teal, yellow, pink, and purple hairs decorate my front lawn, waiting to be whisked away like dandelion seeds. Maybe they will make nice insulation for a squirrel’s nest? I can only dream! That nest will be the coolest one in the tree, that is for sure. Letting the wind pull my hair out was an easier experience for me to endure than the shower I took this afternoon. Little clumps of hair hung off my body and my comb. I mourned a portion of my identity laying in the bathroom trash can. I held myself a little pity party in private. The tears tasted of rage and grief. I can only cry so much over this cancer thing. It only keeps demanding more sacrifices from me. When will what I give be enough for remission? Will I walk out of this experience alive?

I have this irrational fear that nobody will recognize me without my hair. I will cease to exist without rainbow hair. Like I said, it is an irrational fear and makes zero sense. I am still me without my hair, right? Yes? I think? So much of how I have chosen to express myself and my identity has been with my hair. It has changed with the seasons in my life, reflecting the changes of who I am and who I wish to be. I have become bolder, louder, more unapologetic. Having cool hair has made me feel empowered, kinder, unstoppable. I love the freedom it has given me to live my most authentic self. I have a box of awesome turbans and wigs, but they feel like a weird band aid. You can have my butt hairs, chemo. I don’t need those. I just want the hair on my head. Is that too much to ask? I guess so, fucking cancer. You fun sucking bitch.

Despite all the preparation I have done to come to terms with losing my hair, watching it fall out is still painful. It angers me how quickly it releases from my scalp. Even the texture has shifted. You would think that I have never conditioned my hair a day in my life and you all know I am obsessed with my hair care regime! I am dreading shaving my head because it means giving in to chemo, but I also want to be relieved of seeing bits and pieces of me all over my clothes. This is not the kind of confetti I like.

Being bald isn’t forever, but I also don’t know when I will have hair again. I have to be bald all fucking summer! Hot girl summer? More like bald girl summer. Even when my hair does start to return, it will be thin and most likely curly or even a different color. Someone said when my hair starts to grow back, it will feel like little duck butt hairs. Instead of my party trick being you all feeling up my breast tumor, you can feel my duck butt head. Less scary and probably a lot softer.

Today’s song lyric of the day is brought to you by Disclosure.

“Wasted
Don’t know which way you’re facing
You can’t hold on
You’ve got to let go if you want to be free”

– You’ve Got To Let Go If You Want To Be Free, Disclosure, Zedd