Why Going Bald Is Not So Bad

I’ve lost much of my hair in the last 5 years. I am a 26 year old male. In retrospect, I never enjoyed my hair quite enough.

When I was in 7^th grade I grew my hair down to my chin, parted in the middle. Occasionally I would brush it until it got so soft you’d want to wear it as a coat. But I wish I could go back and tell all those Adam’s past to really cherish it.

I know it probably sounds stupid. It’s just hair. After all, I could have lost a limb. That’d be something to feel bad about. But I’d be lying if I said it hasn’t affected my self-image. I’m not a hat wearer. I think that would indicate shamefulness. But the other element of the whole hat thing was once addressed eloquently on Seinfeld: if I meet the woman of my dreams, and I’m wearing a hat, she’ll have some serious surprise when I take it off. Of course, I could trick her into loving me before I take it off, but I think you see the dilemma here.

My friend, who is from Ecuador, calls me “Pelagato.”

I used to cut my hair really short. I hoped people would think I just liked it that way. I wasn’t bald. I was just, um, a Jewish skinhead. Okay, maybe not.

I used Propecia for a while at the beginning. But it got expensive, and I couldn’t really tell if it was working. Besides, God wanted me this way, I guess.

And you know what? If people don’t like me for who I am, then I don’t need ‘em. If you can’t accept looking at my bald, shiny head, then move on, because there are plenty of people who will accept it.

That’s right: I’m bald and I’m proud. I love myself for who I am. I’ll stand tall, even as my hair does not. Besides, Jean-Luc Picard was easily the sexiest starship captain of all time.

By the way, “pelagato” means hairless cat.