On Saturday, I did one of most liberating things I have ever done. I chucked my wig on the first fire of the season and I watched it burn. I turned my back on its odd acrylic strands and unnatural sticky-outy bits. I decided that I would never again look in the mirror and not recognise the person starring back. And, you know what? I loved every second.
Those of you who have followed my journey from the Orthotist’s office to meetings in town, will know that Suzie and I were not the best of friends. We tried, but after three awkward outings, I took the call that I’d rather be bald than wear something that would disguise my true self – and that may blow off in the wind leaving me bald anyway. It may have looked a bit like my old hairstyle, but it just wasn’t me.
Surprisingly, Duncan (aka the fire starter) wasn’t best pleased when I presented the extra fuel for the evening. Having paraded it around the house and channelled his inner David Walliams, I think he was actually quite attached to Suzie. Describing it as a fancy dress item, however, only strengthened my resolve. She just had to go.
So, after a series of comedy pictures, we went our separate ways – me to the shower to rub in more of the lush hair-growth shampoo and Suzie to the fireplace. It was strangely emotional, but it was the right thing to do.
If you’re worried that this is in direct conflict with my cancer capsule idea (see lesson 158), then do not despair. This is not the same as the dressing gown I gave to charity in January. The truth is, even if I were to find myself bald again any time in the future, I wouldn’t reach for Suzie. I might reach for my hairloss hats and my sleep caps, but not my wig.
On Saturday I took control. And, if there’s something in your life that is stopping you from being yourself, then I would urge you to do the same.
NB: apologies to the environment and to charity, but Suzie needed to go. I am sure you understand.