On Accepting Going Bald


Today was one of the most important days of my life. I finally accepted the fact that I am going bald. After months of taking pills and a year of Rogaine, the day finally came to accept my baldness.

It all started my freshman year of college. I had rocked the buzz cut my final two years of high school, because being an athlete who could have gone pro if I didn’t blow out my knee (LOL) I didn’t have time for my flow, or “lettuce” as you lax bros call it, to get in the way. After a few initial buzz cuts freshman year, it was time to revert into the gentleman’s swoop, which I had rocked the previous 16 years of my life–minus my phase in middle school, when I decided to grow out my hair. Anyway, after I let my hair grow out a bit in college, I realized it was slightly thinner than I had remembered. I thought nothing of it as I carefully placed my golf visor on my head. Little did I know, that visor was ripping out all of the remaining hair (and dignity) I had left. I guess it was karma for making fun of my sophomore roommate for shaving his head because of his receding hairline. Soon, my once glorious mane was reduced to a wilted dandelion being broken apart with every gust of wind.

Growing up, people always told me hair genes came from your mother’s father, and how his hair looked was an indicator of how your hair would look. I put all my faith into this fascinating story, and I believed it to be true. After all, my grandfather was a man with a luscious, thick, beautiful topping of natural locks. This was supposed to be me. Instead, I have become this monster, a culmination of what I hated my entire childhood. I always made fun of my dad for his toilet seat head, but now I have become what I said I would never be: a bald man.

As college progressed, so did my thinning, unbeknownst to me. My junior year, I covered it by switching from a visor to a hat. I thought the problem would fix itself. It did not. By senior year, my head looked like an uncultivated chia pet I had neglected when I was a kid. What went wrong? What could I do? After the suggestion of a bald friend, I decided to try Rogaine. However, after long nights of boozing and mornings of Tylenol and Gatorade, I did not adhere to my Rogaine regiment and my scalp saw no improvement.

Upon graduation and a more consistent schedule (still boozing though) I began another Rogaine regimen. It was to no avail. It was too late. My balding had progressed far more than I ever imagined. Today, someone took a Snapchat of me while I was eating lunch. My head was down as I devoured my burrito bowl (white rice, black beans, barbacoa, both salsas, sour cream, cheese, guac–yes, I know it’s extra, this isn’t my first rodeo–and lettuce). I finally saw what I had never seen from the perspective of another. The light shined through at just the perfect angle, and I finally realized that I am balding, and I will soon become bald.

At first, the notion of this angered and saddened me, but now I have realized that bald is beautiful. I will embrace it until the day I can afford Bosley products, and then I will regain that beautiful head of hair I was once so proud of. So, to all you balding eagles out there, stay strong. You are not the only ones.


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I like a splash of ginger ale with my bourbon.

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