I recently had to get serious about wig shopping.

After a fun run of trial and error with Amazon wigs I realized two things:

First, you do indeed get what you pay for. While the Amazon finds were actually impressive for the price, we are in this for a long stint. The pieces I purchased from the “all the things” retailer served a purpose, but I would be lying if I did not share wearing them, I felt a bit self-conscious. I’ve come to learn it’s a “feel” thing and if being completely honest they just didn’t “feel” convincing.

Secondly, would be a bit more honesty as I embrace the fact that I am bald and will remain this way for quite some time. This time around, treatment has zapped everything. So not only will I now be saving money (and time) on hair appointments but also now are gone my days of lash extensions, eyebrow shaping and leg shaving.

Embracing my new follicly challenged persona has taken some time. While I do have the sweetest tribe of loved ones, compliments of a perfectly round head and being a “stunning” bald person just weren’t enough.

Side note here: living in an area with triple digit numbers come summer it is highly possible I will embrace the bald is beautiful mantra, but we’re not there just yet.

Where we are, however, is in the space of finding a “cranial prosthesis” (aka: a wig) which not only felt comfortable but looked like me and my old self.

I shared in my former piece the community member who so tactfully shared with me I no longer resembled my picture in the paper and while the current one does not resemble who you will run into when I’m out and about, it is the most accurate depiction.

I’m happy to report my search has resulted in two wigs I’m quite pleased with. One I refer to as the, T I’d like to be, as it is styled in such a way I would never have the patience of skill for with my own God given locks. It’s a bit on the long side with beautiful flowing waves and a color which is quite flattering. The second looks exactly as my hair did, color, cut and all, prior to hearing the diagnosis in 2020.

Additionally I am the proud owner of two hat falls. Hat fall, I’ve learned, are basically wigs without hair at the top of the scalp and worn with the hat, scarf or beanie of one’s choice. I love my hat falls as they give me a great grab and go look.

Some may be wondering why give this so much attention and go to such lengths to cover what most of the town already knows – I’m bald. The answer to that is quite simple as well as deep as I came to learn embracing my goal hair on a girls trip to Napa last week.

Hair is a funny thing. When first diagnosed with breast cancer in 2020 the loss of my hair was harder than anything else (even the double mastectomy). The thing about hair and transitioning from has to a has not, is now the secret is out. With hair my cancer diagnosis remained something private, however once you find yourself in a head scarf, skull cap or plain bare the world now knows something about you is different.

The current wig chapter, however, goes a bit deeper.

As I enter this chapter for a fourth time and bald for a second, last week I had an epiphany.

When wearing my goal hair or even my hat fall, my confidence is renewed. The bubbly girl who engages with strangers pops back onto the scene. The focus is no longer on my follicly challenged state or what ails me – brilliant. I’ll take it.

The lesson however is bigger than that and thus the reason for me sharing in this space.

As we grow older, much about us changes. It may be the shape of our body, an aging of our face or even lack of hair … it happens.

Oh sure some like to invest in options to help them disguise what time can’t correct, to each their own.

What I’ve come to realize, well actually learn, is just as our home slowly changes over time so too do we. Granted mine has been altered in a way which is bigger than time and aging. Sort of like a home or backyard after a really bad tornado. We do our best to pick up the pieces and put it all back together, but it’s forever changed. In time, we love it just as much.

That would be where I’m at. Initially it was a struggle, I mourned my “old self,” and the style which came so effortlessly. Yet as the winds have calmed and the dust has settled I’m embracing and celebrating what was left.

As the old saying goes, a well-built house needs a strong foundation. I’m grateful to the carpenter with the vision to build my foundation and the work He put in to get me here. While the exterior may appear altered, the structure and interior remain strong thanks to Him.

Teresa Hammond is a staff reporter for The Oakdale Leader, The Escalon Times and The Riverbank News. She will continue to contribute occasional columns.