Alopecia an autoimmune disorder that causes the immune system to attack the hair follicles resulting in hair loss. I was eight-years-old when I was diagnosed with alopecia. From a young age, I struggled with my appearance, self-consciousness, and depression.

I didn't know how to supply self-love and care for myself. Instead, I thought, who would find me attractive with alopecia?  Who would make me happier?

We all know what comes next. The daily terror of finding more patches. Being anxious about patches growing larger. Fear over patches showing when the wind blows your hair just the right way. Loss of control as you can no longer keep the hairstyle you love. I had finally accepted Alopecia as a part of my life. Not in a way that defined me, not in surrender. But in self-preservation.

We all know what comes next. The daily terror of finding more patches. Being anxious about patches growing larger. Fear over patches showing when the wind blows your hair just the right way. Loss of control as you can no longer keep the hairstyle you love. I had finally accepted Alopecia as a part of my life. Not in a way that defined me, not in surrender. But in self-preservation.

For those with Alopecia, it is a daily challenge to look in the mirror and accept that how we look, and therefore who we are, will change abruptly and without our consent. At some point, the disease becomes less about losing the hair itself, and instead about losing our identity.

Along with feelings of embarrassment, I struggled with conflicted feelings of anger. I didn’t ask for alopecia. I didn't ask to be jeered at or ridiculed. It infuriated me that people couldn't be empathetic about something I have no control over. I was angry at myself, angry at my hair, and angry that I couldn't control my situation…

In life and alopecia, there are lessons and blessings. Unfortunately, some lessons are harder to swallow. Prom was one of those lessons for me. I'm still learning to let go of the anger and guilt I feel because I wasn't accepting of my appearance. But through the lesson, I…

I was sitting at the family computer writing a history paper on a school night, and in typical stress mode, I ran my hand through my hair. That’s normal, everyone does it. What wasn’t normal was suddenly feeling a spot that was...smooth. Smooth as a baby’s bottom you might say. I immediately ran downstairs freaking out, and collapsed in my mother’s lap in a puddle of tears…

I had been silent about my alopecia for so long, since it came and went erratically, that when I finally took the plunge and shaved my head for the world to see, I suddenly had to get very good at answering the question “What’s wrong with you?” diplomatically. 

Too many times I've stared in the mirror and thought negatively of myself compared to "hairy" people. Too many times I was ignorant thinking I was less than others because of my appearance. Too many times I lacked the courage to grow because I wasn't confident in my sense of self. For many of us, the conference was a celebration promoting the freedom to be authentic.