Exactly 14 days after my first round of chemo, my hair started to fall out. I told everyone I wasn’t attached to my hair, and I meant it. I’m not attached to my hair. It doesn’t mean it wasn’t a punch to the stomach to see it in my hands. To see it inside all my stocking caps. Every time I ran my hands through my hair, it would slide into my fingers and stay stuck to my hands. I need people to understand that I’m not sad about my appearance. I know everyone is trying to find all the right things to say, and I appreciate everyone trying so hard to be positive, but please stop focusing so much on my appearance. I cried all weekend over my hair. It’s not because I’m scared of how I’ll look bald, it’s because I’m mourning the loss. I didn’t have a nasty woman moment and shave my head like twitter. I didn’t wake up and decide I wanted to be bald. Cancer took my hair from me. Cancer has taken my hair, my eyelashes, my eyebrows. Cancer has taken the muscle mass I worked so hard to build over the years. Cancer has taken all the strength away from me that I built from powerlifting. Cancer is taking my breasts. (I’ll come back to this in another entry) I don’t need to be reassured that I am more than just my hair or that I’m beautiful bald. That isn’t what the tears are about. It’s so much more than my appearance. I hope that someone reading this starts to make an effort to change their verbiage. Stop focusing so much on your loved ones appearances, compliments go so much more beyond that.