Confessions of a Secret Comb Over
Comb over victims is no different than victims of any other burdening misfortunes. No matter how hard I may try to look better, the little voice reminds me of thinning hair or hair loss which doesn't get better but encourages my self-confidence to blemish.
Maybe getting that bald part concealed relaxes me a bit, but the aching scenes of its possible unraveling keep running through my mind all the time.
Only a hair loss sufferer like me can tell how the feelings sprouting from a fake appearance embarrass my self-realization. It's about recurrent painful reminders of incompleteness that come even stingier with following bonny hair memories of boyhood.
When I was a little boy, I will never forget how my hair used to grow wildly. I was always dragged to the barbers for a haircut. I secretly felt special as the barbers would need to put a plank of wood across the armrests so I could sit on the instant man-made platform - all this for ME, amazing! I was annoyed at my extra vibrant hair, but a virile, luscious sense of handsomeness was always a dominant hunch in me. This situation has completely changed now as the embarrassment of someone seeing my bald spots makes me shudder. At least the good old days directly provide a souvenir of that splendor that I once possessed.
Surrounded by vast and limpid mirrors and a citrusy fragrance of sandalwood, the barber's shop was just nostalgic. This setting was the reason I would finally settle for a haircut despite the hesitation. Decades later and I walk past many barbershops and stare at the amounts of hair on the floor. The only and perhaps the most agonizing fact is if I didn't sport a hair system, I would fall into the category of a comb-over victim!
I remember bald uncles and gents would also come to the barber's, and I always wondered if they really needed a haircut until I heard 'short back and sides please'. It's only now that I understand the diversity of the matter. Today, despite having disguised my baldness with a hair system from Lordhair, I can't help relating myself to those uncles. What about me today in my vibrant LGBTQ surroundings - I wonder if my uncles ever thought I would go partially bald one day?
It feels like not so long ago, my hair was growing at a far faster pace than any other of my friends or family. I still get irritated with my sideburns - and often scream, 'why can't my hair grow at the same rate as my sideburns!'.
Remember when Jason Donovan's haircut was street-famous. Teachers at school all hoped we would resemble Jason and not Boy George. The thought of Boy George's 'look' is far more inspiring than the safe Jason.
All I can conclude here is, if your hair is thick, voluminous, or, for that matter, windswept, you can hit the sack with peace. Tiding it, again and again, may appear irritating but isn't. Not for me, at least. If your hair recedes, don't allow it to lose your charm.
I've learned that confidence doesn't have much to do with how you look. It's more about how you feel, and your feelings are a genuine product of what you have. It's about what you are, what worthwhile physical traits you carry, i.e. of course, hair is one. Let me restrict it to myself. Thanks to Lordhair, I feel much better with this upgraded version of myself.