My hat is off. My wig is off. I am now a short-haired brunette and today I am confident. I went to a hair stylist this morning who colored my hair a bit — she added a bit of reddish brown to even out the color — and shaped it up around my ears and neck. She played with gels and pastes and tried to find something to give me texture and lift. Hairspray did the trick. And a blowdryer applied to the wet hairspray makes my really short hair stick up a bit. This makes me feel okay. I didn’t like the completely flat look but this new look is okay.
I unveiled my new style at Joey’s preschool when I picked him up. The reaction was positive. Joey said, “you don’t look any different.”
I feel different — with this new length and new color. But I feel free too — free from hats and wigs and cancer. Free to be my new self. Yeah.
Photo: My niece (Jordan) has more hair than I do.