If the hair is the crown on a black woman’s head, it is the jewel of the Latina – long, silky, jet black or mocha-colored, curly or straight, this is how society wants to see us.
Latina’s are sexy, “spicy,” and in some cultural subsets typically expected to be dressed to the 9’s with a full beat.
Have you seen a Mexican anchorwoman on the Telemundo?
As many women can attest to, not just Latinas, living your life with your outward appearance so entrenched in your identity can make for extreme emotional issues when cancer takes your hair from you.
What is the first question you asked your oncologist?
I would be willing to bet that 9 out of 10 women reading this had the same question as me – “Will I lose my hair?” followed by “When?”
I was more frightened of the thought of having a bald head than how chemotherapy would affect my body. I remember initially telling my husband if they offered me chemo, I would refuse it!
Dr. Google told me about all the ways cancer could be treated, that chemo was not the only thing out there.
Guess what?
Dr. Google did not explain to me that stage IIB cancer in your lymph nodes (which ended up being stage III) means you’re getting chemo.
Once that road was laid out before me, I moved on to the next question I needed to address with my oncologist – the WHEN.
The answer to this question is more definitive – hair begins to fall out just after the second treatment of Adriamycin aka The Red Devil. (Side note – can we please stop using the term “devil” in describing/naming a necessary medication for cancer patients?)
The image of me being bald fills me with terror.
My long, black hair… the hair my husband loves and compliments… the hair I treat so delicately with sprays, creams, masks, and expensive hair tools. I think of all the work I put into it because I am Latina. I am to stand on the side of my husband with my hair shining, flowing long because that is who I am.
That is who I am supposed to be for hi
It is who I have always been.m.
With an air of urgency, the thought comes to me – I NEED A WIG!
Hospitals have them for cancer patients for free — great!
I will get one.
Wrong – there is nothing among the free wigs that remotely comes close to my hair color or style.
I hear rumblings about “cold capping;” there is a way I can keep my hair.
Sold!
Hold up – as I do my research, I realize cold capping is not an option, especially once I saw the price. If I’m spending $200 minimum a week on groceries AND my husband is taking a day off of work every time I have an infusion, that doesn’t leave a lot of extra money for any type of wiggle room, much less hair.
It seems I have come to the end of my choices – I resign myself to the fact that I will be bald. I drive my car with the windows rolled down from that point on, letting the wind whip my hair into a frenzy, feeling the strands flying into my face, enjoying the feeling while I can.
Fast forward a year, and I am living that low haircut life. I was so excited to finally know that I would have my hair back!
My hair had other ideas… I started to notice that it was falling out – not just light shedding but lots of strands breaking, especially when I washed my hair which I stopped doing daily. Something clicks and I realized I will never have my long, black hair again. Dyeing it was too time-consuming and costly to try to keep up (it hardly grows anyway), and it’s so thin that even when it does start to get “long,” I’m self-conscious of the bald spots all over my head. My husband assured me he loved it, loved me, that it made no difference to him what it looked like.
Going to the YSC conference in Austin solidified my decision. I saw many beautiful women with short hairstyles, and they looked confident!
Happy!
Completely unbothered.
So, I decided to do the same.
After a while, I figured how to style it. I get compliments here and there, and quite a few “Halle Berry” comments.
In my neighborhood, not so much.
Whenever I shopped in the predominantly Hispanic areas of my neighborhood, I started to notice the stares. There are no young, Hispanic women that wear a hairstyle anywhere like mine. I know I stick out.
My insecurities try to overtake me, but I did my best to squash them by chanting my mantra – NOT TODAY SATAN.
Even today, I still get the looks.
I do not quite concern myself with them as much as I did. Sometimes I feel happy with my hair. I get so happy to buy hair products again!
I like the juxtaposition of the strict lines of my cut next to pearl earrings and fake lashes.
Not too long after I made peace with my hair, I found this picture on IG with this caption – “LLevar Pelo Corto No Te Hace Menos Mujer” which translates to “Wearing short hair does not make you less than a woman.”
Thank you, universe, for giving me what I needed when I needed it.
