The Strands We Call Hair
Commentary by Felicha Sinegar Stanley | CCCA Patient
Hair—it’s more than just what grows from our scalp. It’s a part of our identity, a symbol of change, and for many of us, a daily struggle. It comes in a variety of colors—yellow, white, brown, red, or black—and as we age, those colors shift, often blending into silver or grey. But hair doesn’t just change in color; its texture transforms too.
For me, my hair has gone through countless changes. As a child, my hair was straightened with a hot comb at just four years old. By my teenage years, I relied on chemical relaxers, a routine that followed me well into adulthood. Now, as a seasoned adult, I face a new challenge—alopecia, Central Centrifugal Cicatricial Alopecia (CCCA), and coarse, dry hair that is a mix of brown and grey. Managing my hair has become an uphill battle.
No matter what products I try—without a chemical relaxer or just using conditioner—nothing seems to work. After years of searching, I still haven’t found a shampoo or conditioner that truly suits my hair. Lately, I’ve been experimenting with tea tree oil and jojoba oil to combat the excessive dryness. Every few days, I switch up my moisturizer, allowing my hair to breathe in between. But when I comb my hair, it breaks and falls out in clumps—an emotionally devastating experience.
I know that stress plays a significant role in my hair health. Health scares, caregiving responsibilities, and unemployment have all weighed heavily on me, and I can feel the effects in every brittle strand. Looking in the mirror and seeing my hair—dry, wiry, coarse, and dull—only deepens my frustration.
After much internal debate, I went back to my trusted wig—the one I first bought when my hair loss from alopecia and CCCA began. It's worn and raggedy now, but somehow, it still looks better than my own hair on any given day.
Beyond the physical struggle, the emotional toll is overwhelming. No one truly understands how deeply this affects me. And the hardest part? I simply can’t afford to maintain my hair at a salon. Professional care costs over $200 per visit, which is out of reach for me. Beauty schools, which once provided an affordable alternative, are now nearly nonexistent.
So I ask—what can I do? I need help, advice, or suggestions from anyone who has faced a similar battle. My hair feels like it's failing me, and some days, I feel like I'm failing myself. If you have any insights, please share them with me through SAF by clicking here—I would truly appreciate it.