As I mentioned in my initial post, I am a lifelong baldie, and proud of it.
Over the years, I have occasionally worn a wig, though not often. My parents always left it up to me whether or not I would wear a wig, when I was growing up. If I wanted to wear one, Mom would fluff it and comb it, etc. And when I didn’t want to wear one, Mom would graciously remind me that beauty is a thing of the heart.
Once in a while, when I was in grade school, I would lament my bald pate. When I did, Mom would smile and get the wig. I would leave the house in the morning with the wig perfectly combed and in place. Typically, by the time the bell rang for the first recess, the wig was stuffed in my backpack, where it stayed until I returned home from school.
While I was frequently made fun of in school, I was determined to be myself.
After all, God only made a few perfect heads…to the rest he gave hair.