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  • Mer Monson


Started coming loose Sunday and by Tuesday morning I could pull out huge clumps just by running my fingers through it. My awesome hair guy gave me the shave yesterday and a just-for-laughs mohawk along the way (Steve's idea of course).  I thought I was going to throw up right before I sat down in his chair, but from the moment Mark's clippers touched my scalp I felt loads of calm and even a bit curious about the new me that was being unearthed. As I watched my head come into the light, I remember thinking, "Hey, this isn't so bad. I might even be cute under here."   I've been truly afraid of this moment for a long time, but I unexpectedly find myself in a peaceful space with my bald head.  Screaming "I have cancer!" with my looks isn't so much fun, but it feels awesome to step into the freedom of "I am not my hair" and a hundred other things I've mistaken myself for.  And to be honest, this feels like cake compared to a lot of other pieces of this crazy adventure we're in.

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