Your hair isn't thinning because you did something wrong. Something is going on inside your body. And nobody told you.
You already know what this feels like.
You check your hairline in every mirror you pass. You angle your phone down in selfies so nobody sees the top of your head.
You tried the castor oil. The biotin. The $200 dermatologist who told you to stop wearing braids. You haven't worn braids in years.
They ran bloodwork and said everything looks fine. But this is not fine. You KNOW something is wrong.
So you hid.
You stopped saying yes. To brunch. To dates. To anything where you're not 100% sure your hair is right. You flinch when your partner reaches for your head. You've ended dates early because you couldn't stop thinking about the moment he'd find out.
Your mama says "it's just hair, baby." Your friends say "try castor oil." Your daughter says "mommy, why do you always wear that thing on your head?"
You smiled. Changed the subject. And then you went somewhere alone and fell apart.
This isn't vanity. This is grief.
You're mourning a version of yourself that doesn't exist anymore. And nobody treats it like a real loss because "it's just hair."
It's not just hair. And you know that...