Scarring alopecia had taken out about 65% of it and everytime I looked at it, I wanted to cry. My, once super thick, hair was a sad rendition of a nappy comb over.

I had a sleep study coming up and I knew it would be too embarrassing to lift my wig and expose the mess that used to be a head of hair. So I took my clippers and Buzz, Buzz, Buzz. Less that two minutes and it was over.

I thought it would be traumatic or melodramatic, but it wasn't. It was more freeing than anything. Since I wear wigs anyway, it wasn't a huge change.

My husband knows that I did it, but he has not seen my bald head yet. I'm still getting comfortable with it. I'm not ashamed, just protective. I don't miss the little bit of hair that I was hanging onto. As a matter of fact, i often run my hands over my peach fuzzy/smooth skin head and wonder why I didn't do it sooner.

It would have saved me a lot of money on all last ditch, desperate attempts to grow something (ANYTHING) with those snake oil products.