The hair loss thing is hitting me pretty hard. My two favorite traits about myself have always been my big blue eyes and my long, wavy brown hair. I’ve only ever cut my hair short (by choice) once, when I donated it to Locks of Love in my early twenties. I kept it short for a few years because I loved the ease, but it wasn’t long before I was growing it out again. Part of my identity is tied to my hair. I’ve just always thought it was awesomely girly to have long, soft, thick hair. It was probably the most girly thing about me (besides the obvious girl parts, that is). So you can imagine how I am starting to look at myself differently as my hair thins and falls out.
This, and some political talk a little earlier, prompted the following conversation:
Me: Thank you for not being Newt Gingrich.
Milo: (laughs) You’re welcome, honey, because I am not a cheating bastard.
Me: Still, you could have left me and you didn’t. I appreciate that. (pause) Are you going to still love me when I have no hair?
Milo: Of course! Then you’ll be MoonDragon.
Me: Who is MoonDragon?
Milo: She is a bald sorceress who somehow ended up involved with the Avengers. (This was later corrected when we looked her up and found out she was a telepath, not a sorceress.)
Me: So wait, you’re going to love me because I remind you of some bald, geek comic girl?
Milo: Of course! In fact, I bet there is a whole list of hot, bald Sci-fi chicks! I’m going to look them up!
Then he proceeds to look them all up and read them to me to make me feel better. My husband is freaking amazing, I tell you. How can I not love this man?