The Root of It All: Hair Loss, Vitamin D, and Letting Go

What makes you feel like you?

Maybe you’re better at focusing on the fact that you are a soul, rather than a body. And I believe that’s how it should be. But, over the years, I’ve found that I have a very strict definition of what Amanda should be. And when I look in the mirror and I’m not measuring up, I’ll admit I spiral.

The root of it

The root for all my self-identity is my hair. My mom has always had long, luscious brown hair, and I (thank you, God) inherited that gene. Most women play around with the length of their hair; my mom, never. It was always long, and somehow, I found that keeping my hair long and thick too tied me to her despite distance, despite circumstance.

It was my way of showing I wanted to be like her.

When my mom lost her hair to cancer, it was deeply symbolic for all of us. My mother without her long, brown hair? How could it be? It felt God was taking away her very personhood. I hurt with her.

In my first novel, the main character’s hair ties her to her past. In fact, one of the ways the villain breaks her is by cutting her hair. It was one of the cruelest things I could think of doing to my main character.

Then came my crisis.

About 2 months ago now, I noticed tiny haystacks of hair all over my boyfriend’s apartment. I’ll usually shed a good bit, more than the average person I’d say, but that’s my normal. At this point, I was finding larger clumps—something was amiss.

The first time a clump fell out in the shower, the fear I felt was visceral. It was as if I were melting. I tried to collecting all the falling hairs, but they just kept coming, getting all over my arms and the shower wall.

This happened three more times.

I came to fear washing my hair because of the emotional toll it was bound to bring. Every time, I worried I’d emerge with a bald spot on my head. Every time, I was worried I’d have to work from home indefinitely until I didn’t look like an animal with mange.

Through it all, I tried to stay calm. I have been through worse, to be sure—as has everyone I know. But this was so personal. I was in the midst of wedding planning, and newly engaged, and it felt like such a low valley after a mountaintop experience.

I wondered if I’d even have hair for my wedding day.

“Are you more than a body?”

But, through the fog of fear, God sent a message loud and clear. Are you more than a body? It became so transparently clear—even if a vitamin deficiency didn’t take my hair away, time most likely would.

My definition of Amanda will have to change over the course of my life. The image I have of myself in my head can only be true for a couple more years. Then, perhaps the greatest sacrifice of them all—becoming a mother, if God allows. That will make me face my greatest fears.

And what will I do then?

Or perhaps an illness will make my ideal body type an impossibility. Or maybe a freak accident. Or maybe—

You get my point.

I came out of this with a new resolve: that though I may look different as the years go by, I am still me. Amanda is a soul, a spirit, an image bearer of God that will one day join Him in the skies and be made perfect. He has no definition in His mind other than being His workmanship, other than serving Him as best I can while in this life.

So, what was it?

Turns out, I had a severe Vitamin D deficiency. We’re not sure what it’s from—sickness at the beginning of the year, stress, who knows—but I am lucky. Oftentimes, answers are not found quickly and you must live in the gray of almost-diagnosis-but-not-yet.

But I hope that this is a reminder of your immense worth, regardless of your physical appearance.

Whatever is taken from you can in no way compare to what God can, and will, give you.

2 Corinthians 4:7-12, 16-18 (one of my favorite passages of all time)

⁷ But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us. ⁸ We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; ⁹ persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; ¹⁰ always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our bodies. ¹¹ For we who live are always being given over to death for Jesus’ sake, so that the life of Jesus also may be manifested in our mortal flesh. ¹² So death is at work in us, but life in you.

¹⁶ So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self^[d] is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. ¹⁷ For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, ¹⁸ as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.