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"Do you have cancer?" - Alopecian women, i.e. women without hair, hear this question at every step. Alopecia areata, or alopecia areata, affects about two percent of the world's population, and the cause of this condition is still unknown. Excerpts from the book “Alopecjanki. Stories of bald women "by Marta Kawczyńska, HARDE publishing house, 2022.

Kasia's story

My grandmother had several children. Four died. Aunt Ania was among them. Shortly before her death, she tied her hair into a pigtail, cut it off, and gave it to her grandmother. She said, "Mom, you'll see that someone in the family will need them." "I'm sure Ania was talking about you." With these words my grandmother gave me this braid two years ago. Then I almost completely lost my hair …

Mom, will I be bald?

- The first bald cake on my head appeared when I was nine. (…) I started crying terribly. I ran to my mother and asked: "Mom, will I be bald?"

It was 1995. My mom signed me up to see a doctor. He examined my head and diagnosed alopecia areata. I had a panic attack, started crying terribly again. I screamed that I would not be bald or wearing a wig. Wigs looked terrible back then. The doctor said that the hair fell out due to stress. He suggested we go to a psychologist. So we went.

How can a nine-year-old child fall in love with a grown man?

It was a young man, mega-handsome. Since childhood, I am an open person, despite the difficult childhood, alcoholic father, hits at home, eternal quarrels. I had no problems telling him about myself. I met the handsome psychologist several times. After one of the visits, he said that he was quitting work with me because he was afraid that I would fall in love with him (…) How can a nine-year-old child fall in love with an adult man? So far it has puzzled me.

The bun is too low, you won't perform

The hair on my head lived a life of its own. The bald patties came and went. They grew back in one place, and fell out in another. My mother, who is an herbalist, imported drugs from China to help her grow hair. Nothing helped(…) One day, a ballet teacher told me: "The bun is too low, you won't perform." It was the worst thing that could happen to me. I was a ballerina for several years. I was good at it, even very good (…) I felt rejected. The disease took away what I loved. If then there were such opportunities as today … Our house would not overflow, although dad earned a lot, he would drink it all.

I hate the sight of a police car to this day

Daddy has been ashamed since I can remember. However, I was able to find myself company, to be that cool Kaśka. Nobody thought of me: "A child from a pathological home." When I was seven, we moved to Toruń. I was hoping my father would stop drinking. "When a drunk changes the environment, stops meeting with friends, the alcohol will be put aside." I was wrong. The police appeared at our house. There were times when my dad threatened us. To this day, I hate the sight of a police car, guys in police uniforms.

- Has your father ever said anything bad about your hair?

Not really. Once he only asked, "Is it because of me?" I replied, "Yes, because of you." "I will change, I will change, daughter. I will stop drinking, ”he repeated. He went to the closed drug addiction treatment three times (…) But the joy did not last long. He met a friend. He drank. My happiness is over. I was the first to discover that my father was drinking again and told my mother about it. She did not believe it. She thought I thought he had calmed down. "You will see. Tomorrow he'll come wasted too, ”I told her. That's how it was.

This is a school, respect is to be

My hair has always been very thick and dense. When we moved to Toruń, I went to the second grade of primary school. The boys tugged my hair because they thought I was wearing a wig. The teachers asked my mother if I was sick, the hair on my head looked so unnatural. My grandmother was a hairdresser by profession, so I always had my hair perfectly cut and styled. Maybe that's why everyone thought it was a wig. Another irony of fate in my life. When I had my hair, people thought I was wearing a wig. Now I have such a good wig that no one will guess that I am actually bald. I was very successful with the boys. That's when "it" started. There were pies. Worst moment? When in class one of the boys saw a bald spot on the back of my head. He started to laugh. He threatened to tell his colleague from the bench. I begged him not to do this. I can't remember ifsaid if he finally let go.

Girl's solidarity

(…) Everyone seemed to know about my illness, but nobody spoke about it loudly. When I started wearing a headscarf, my best friend did the same. Girls' solidarity. The tutor probably did not like it, because then she had a talk during the educational lesson. “This is a school, respect has to be. No scarves or hats, ”she announced flatly. I came home roaring.

As my hair grew back, I pretended it was okay. In general, I was getting stronger, I didn't give it a hard time. I was able to defend myself. I was wearing a tough girl mask. But inside I was very soft. During all these years I couldn't accept myself, who I am.

If he sees me bald, he will blow away

The first guy I told about my illness was my husband. We met at the gym.

(…) It was difficult for me to tell him about the disease. He was the first one that I thought of as the future husband and father of my child. And you know what happened? He asked me the question I used to ask my former goodies: “What do you see in a guy like me? In such a man? ”. I thought then: "Dude, when you find out that I'm bald, you will quickly reverse this question."

The "zero" hour has come. We were sitting at my house. It was such an evening of serious talks. Przemek told me about his difficult past, and I - about his childhood, which was not all roses. I mentioned the bald patches on the head, which are a reminder of that difficult time.

- Do you want a woman like that? Make up your mind, or you decide to do it or we part ways. - I was firm.

My heart was pounding. I was afraid that I would be single in a moment.

- I love you the way you are, not for how much hair you have on your head. I will always be with you and I will love you just as much. Hair doesn't matter to me, you are beautiful. - These words of Przemek I remember forever. I thought to myself, "What the fuck is he. If he sees me bald, he will blow away. " I couldn't believe it.

I didn't believe it until he went with me to get the wig. I realized that he loves me even when I am bald and he really is amazing. After our conversation, which took place a few months before the wedding, I started telling selected people what was wrong with me a little more boldly.

Przemek proposed to me very quickly. We were witha month and a half when he asked me to marry him. I met my mother-in-law when we went to tell her about our decision. She thought I was pregnant, that we fell in and that's why we want to get high. She was shocked when we said that we are doing nothing, and yet - as is commonly known - children do not spring from thin air. And we just get married out of love. We got married on September 27, 2008. We immediately started trying for a baby. Three months later I was already pregnant.

This is me, this is my hair. I'm awesome

I remember March 5, 2022 very well. It was the climax. I was standing over the bathtub, my hair falling down into it like raindrops. There is nothing to think about anymore, I thought. I went to Warsaw to get a wig. It was a day that changed my life once and for all, I call it the day of liberation. I saw myself in this wig and said:

"This is me, this is my hair. I'm awesome. No more complexes! ”

When I returned to Toruń, my employees greeted me with a cake. There was a great celebration and joy. I was happy, they were happy. I was convinced that the whole world was enjoying it.

- What did you do with the hair your grandma gave you?

We didn't know how to take care of them. My mom just untangled them and washed them. They got tangled up and had to be thrown out. How did I know then that unraveling a braid is the worst thing that can be done with hair intended for a wig. I remember them perfectly. Brown thick braid, about 40 centimeters. Grandma kept it wrapped in a bag for over 50 years.

If what I am telling you hadn't been my own story, I wouldn't have believed it. Do I want hair again? I don't want. I have come to terms with the fact that they are not there. The only thing I'm not ready for is losing my lashes. I hope God will protect me from this. And if even that… I know I have beautiful eyes.

About the author of the bookMarta Kawczyńska - journalist, psychotherapist of dance and movement (DMT), author of the book "Alopecian women. Stories of bald women", Wyd. Harde, 2022

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Immune system