This phase, right now, this is what I was looking forward to the least. I can't stand the length my hair is right now. Don't like it even a little bit. My mom and a few other people have told me they like it like this, and I believe that maybe they really do. But I really don't. At all.
I don't feel attractive or feminine right now. Even with my "nice butt" jeans and a sexy top, I'm just not feeling it. I wish I were the type of person who didn't care at all, but unfortunately I do care. I don't care enough, though, that I regret shaving my head.
Every time I start getting really down about it, I remind myself why I did it. I had a choice. I picked how and when I was going to go bald. For 32 years I have been blessed with good health. What on Earth do I have to complain about? A fuzz head? So what? For the 46 children and the United States who are diagnosed EVERY DAY, they don't have a choice. How dare I complain about my hair when they are getting ready to start the hardest battle of their lives.
So when people look at me funny, or when I look at myself funny, I need to keep those kiddos in the front of my mind and in my heart.
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