Finding my identity

Have you ever looked in the mirror and wondered “who the hell am I?”

In the space of 365 days, I went from being an easy-going adventurer to becoming a wife, mother, and alopecia sufferer. Did you read my first post “About me”? These are the three words I used to introduce myself. I didn’t talk about my love for food, my desire to be a great artist, or my many quirky mannerisms. Wife, mother, and alopecia are the labels I have placed upon myself.

Please don’t misunderstand me. Becoming a member of the exclusive Bonono’s (a.k.a my family) has given me blessings far greater than I am worthy of. What I am referring to is identity. Beyond the labels. The deeper meaning of self.

Perhaps without Alopecia the old me would still be the current me. I would be out there, carefree and exploring with my baby in my arms and husband by my side. But I do have alopecia. And I believe it has stripped away the old me and left me naked and exposed without an identity.

Since the diagnosis, not a day has passed where I don’t inspect my hairbrush to assess how much hair has fallen, or check my baby’s hands for entangled hair that could end up in her mouth, or talk about it in one way or another. Alopecia has consumed my mind, my conversations, my relationships, and my future. It has become who I am.

But not anymore. This post is my official public declaration. I don’t know my new identity…yet. But I will find it. I will not sulk over the loss of hair but have gratitude for all I have and start to explore who I am. My labels will remain, but my journey will uncover new exciting parts of me that have become buried beneath the turban.

I hope that the outcome will yield a profoundly positive impact on me as a wife, a mother, a woman and a general human being.


*My Bonono’s – a label that will proudly remain forever x


4 thoughts on “Finding my identity

  1. Wonderful post. I always love to read a positive outlook… bring on the you who loves food, art and all your quirky mannerisms woven in between.
    I admire your courage to do this, to acknowledge the dips and the darkness, and to intentionally turn away from it and move to a nicer place.
    Take us with you!

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