Tuesday, 22 March 2011

Hi, I'm Bald.

I don't really care when people make fun of me. When it's about my hair though, there's a whole different story.
Once in a blue moon I receive a comment to the tune of "Oh my fucking god, you're bald" or "You have a bald spot, did you know that?"
No, I never noticed. Thank you.

It's not one of those things you can just laugh away and say, Oh yeah, I've had it since birth! Must be a defect!
It's not one of those things you can tell your friends during lunch amidst conversations about cute puppies and Gala dresses. It's not a horrendous accident when I was 3 years old that left me with second degree burns.
It's a fragile topic.

I know most of my friends are too nice to ask. I don't want to be the "careful or you'll end up bald like Kristiina"- line.
So I'll tell you, friend. So you don't wonder.

At the back/top of my head, there is a small patch of hair (I'll call it the Ghandara region, because I was just reading on architecture from there), and in the Ghandara region there is less hair than the rest of my head. Sometimes my hair parts at the edge or in the middle, leaving a line, and you can clearly tell my hair is more sparse there.
That's when you think "Oh my jolly roger, she's bald!"

Let's rewind to when I was 8. I had a stepmother called Baby, she was half Swedish and half Finnish. She had 14 dogs, she wore long skirts and never wore a bra, she had a short red bob and she weighed about 120kg. She also had a short temper, sometimes she would pick up our dogs and throw them across the room.
It's illegal to lay a hand on a child. The law says nothing of sticks, boomerangs, frying pans, being chased by dogs or of pulling hair.

You know what the worst part is?
When you can hear all the hair being ripped out of your head. You hear it inside your head. You can't even feel it anymore.
Most effective way is to grab some hair, her favourite was the Ghandara region, and then twist it until it's so tight that it all comes off. With time, your child will have no feeling in that spot. Nor will she have much hair.

It's all fine now, I don't really care any more. Life goes on, hair is hair and so on.

Oh baby baby baby, oh.

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