Alopecia. Better known as my least and most favorite word in the English dictionary. For awhile I could not say the word without a look of disgust and exhaustion coming across my face. But like a lot of things in my life, it grew on me.

     Alopecia is the total or partial loss of hair (a fancy word for bald) pretty much caused by white blood not doing their job. Due to stress. Growing up I’ve always felt stressed to act, speak, dress, think, look, you name it, a certain way. For so long I wanted to be like every other white, straight haired, skinny girl I knew. I remember not knowing who I was and being confused about who I was supposed to be. I felt so restricted daily, like every decision I made was wrong.

     I got in the shower and ran my hands through my hair, and suddenly saw lots slip down the drain. I went to the dermatologist after and received my diagnosis. I remember not making much of it because the change was gradual. Months went by and my hair became thinner and thinner until none was left. I found myself staying home from school. I could not get myself to leave my bed or talk to anyone. High school was supposed to be something fun but it ended up turning into a nightmare.

     So you can see why I hate this word so much. Nothing leaves a more bitter taste on my tongue. Alopecia.

     By junior year, I was recovering and taking some medication that actually did something for me. During one of my sleepless nights it all came together. All in one moment I decided I wanted to stop pressuring myself. I wanted to let go. I had to completely stop caring about what society said. I had to reach my full potential. And just like that I did.

     Now, I don’t let anyone censor what I have to say anymore. I found my own ways of expression. I found myself and figured out who I was meant to be. That’s what high schools for isn’t it? Finding yourself? Figuring out what makes you feel whole? For years I sat and listened to people tell me how to act, speak, dress, think, look, but not anymore. Alopecia destroyed me in the best way possible. It destroyed the person I didn’t want to be and created someone I was destined to be. I was able to realize my purpose and understand that I’m here to show people that it’s okay to be yourself and it’s okay to feel different. I’ve taught myself just how powerful different can truly be. Embracing yourself with every step and submerging yourself into self discovery is a beautifully horrible process. It’s disgustingly pure and amazingly terrifying. It’s raw vulnerability and hiding yourself completely. Forcing yourself to look at the parts of you that you don’t want to see, like a car accident on the highway, you stomach it and remain wanting to know more. You grow and you wither within weeks and grow back taller.

     My story will never be one of self pity or brokenness. My story is growth. As much as I want to focus on the hurt of the past, it’s the moving forward that’s authentically me. It’s being willing to crack yourself open entirely and dissect each part of your complex mind like a biology lab and see the gross insides of the frog on the table. It’s realizing you’re more than what the eye meets at hand which is what I believe our generation struggles most with. Being able to look in the mirror and admit when we’re wrong. But that’s youth right?

     Alopecia holds both the beauty and ugliness of my teenage years. It captures me at my most graceful and at my most foul. I think everyone needs to find their word. The word that pushes them to their breaking point and their growth and say enough is enough. That’s real power. For a simple word to change a life and open a mind.  Provide understanding of what matters and what doesn’t. Provide the ability to crave problem solving and self analysis. Self love is a journey, but if you take the right steps it’s more than possible to love yourself and to see yourself as strong and resilient. To NOT disregard the past altogether but reflect and critique for a better future.

     Alopecia is my least and most favorite word in the English dictionary.

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