No one prepares you for the moment you actually see it happening. You know it is coming — the doctors tell you, the information pamphlets warn you — but knowing and experiencing are entirely different things. Watching your hair come out in your hands in the shower, or on your pillow, or in the brush, is its own kind of shock. A visible marker of something you never wanted anyone to see.
Hair loss is often described in clinical terms: a temporary side effect of certain chemotherapy drugs, expected to resolve after treatment ends. But for many people, it carries a weight far beyond the medical definition. Hair is tied to identity. To how we present ourselves to the world. To gender, culture, beauty, normalcy. Losing it is a public announcement of illness to everyone who sees you. And not everyone is ready to make that announcement.
You are allowed to grieve this. Some people feel embarrassed grieving hair loss when they are simultaneously grateful to be alive — as if the two feelings cannot coexist. They can. You can be grateful for your treatment and devastated by what it is taking from you. These are not contradictions. They are the full, complicated truth of living through something hard.
Take back some control over how it happens. Many people choose to shave their head before the hair falls out on its own — a way of deciding the timeline rather than having it decided for them. Others prefer wigs, scarves, hats, or bold acceptance of the bald look. There is no right way. Whatever helps you feel most like yourself, or most comfortable moving through the world right now, is the right choice.
Know that how people respond to your appearance is about them, not about you. Some people will not know what to say and will stare or look away. Some will say clumsy things. Others will surprise you with their grace. You do not owe anyone a particular performance of how to handle your own appearance. Bald, wigged, scarved, or otherwise — you are still fully yourself.
And when treatment ends, many people find the return of their hair a deeply emotional moment. Sometimes it grows back different — different color, different texture — and that requires its own adjustment. But it often comes back. And when it does, you may find yourself looking at it differently than you ever did before.