“Will he let me go?” she thinks to herself. The last obstacle to beginning her transformation is her husband. She rehearsed all day what she would say to him when he got home. She knew her husband loved her. All she could think about was how he used to compliment her on how lovely her long hair used to be and how he liked the way she styled it. She remembered how he would never want the stylist to take too much off when she would get it trimmed. The thought of telling him she is getting way more than a trim at the barber shop, has her imagining him going into cardiac arrest.
Feeling some anxiety, she begins to have second thoughts and starts to think, “Well, maybe a wig is not that bad after all”. Then she comes to herself, free means totally free. Operation Haircut is back in motion. It’s five o’clock. She hears his keys rattling in the door. It’s her husband coming in from work.
She takes a deep breath and walks to greet him at the door. After the usual peck on the lips followed by, “how was your day?” her husband prepares to unwind for the weekend. She says to him, “Honey, we need to talk”. She proceeds to talk about her alopecia.
The MEDICATIONS for hair growth!
The WHAT IFs?
The WHAT NOTs?
It was all overwhelming for him to hear it. Imagine how overwhelming it is for her to experience it.
Her moment of truth finally arrives. She strategizes how to share her escape plan with her husband, all the way down to making the appointment with the barber. She says one last silent prayer. Like a sports car that goes from zero to sixty in a matter of seconds, she blurts out, “Honey, I want to cut my remaining hair off and wear it bald.”
Feeling a sense of relief that she was able to get it all out, all that she is waiting for is her husband’s blessing. He immediately falls into the supportive husband role. However, it is not in the direction she had hoped for. He tells her, “Babe, its okay. I love how you look in the wigs. With the shots and medications, you just have to give it time. I’m sure they will work at some point. The doctors have you take the test just as precaution. I don’t really think there is any risk. If there was, why would they give you the shots?”
Just as he was about to continue with his, “Girl, I got your back” speech, she cuts him off. “I appreciate you encouraging me through all of that but the truth is, I don’t want to put on another wig or take another series of shots or get my blood drawn again for anything related to hair. I am comfortable and confident with my decision to cut my hair off. I’M READY.”
Silence falls over them like a blanket. He slowly lifts his head and looks her in the eyes. With a pained look on his face, he gently replies, “I’m not”.
Visit my blog, next week, for part III.