When I realised that I was losing my hair, it affirmed states of anxiety and depression that had been developing since high school. Now, this is the first time I have felt comfortable using the words “anxiety” and “depression”. They’ve often felt taboo, like they were words I hadn’t suffered enough to use, but I now think that came from underestimating what I was going through. It hasn’t all passed since going bald, as not every issue in my life is attributed to the hair loss, but I have some relief, now.

Of course, you shouldn’t use these terms lightly and I don’t: depression isn’t just feeling sad and anxiety isn’t just feeling worried. Conversely, however, not feeling suicidal or experiencing panic attacks doesn’t mean you’re not affected either. Suffering is not a competition and if we define standards by extremes then we risk overlooking the nuance inherent in these complex issues which could jeopardise everyone across the spectrum.

I have known and know people who suffer worse than I do and in my years spent listening, learning, and reflecting on my own wellbeing, I’ve found that what affects me doesn’t manifest itself in as chaotic ways as panic attacks or as physically harmful ways as suicidal tendencies. Not getting into specifics not relevant here, I just know my feelings can be insidious. They start subtly, become pervasive, and eventually disengage and disarm. They are isolating and often defeating. In a strange way, they just suddenly are and I operate in their new normal until they’re not, whenever that is.

To be clear, I haven’t been diagnosed with anything by anyone and I’m not on medication. This will partially be on account of not having sought professional help, however I find that to be more of a future step. Never mind financial costs, I wanted to make sense of these things myself and without being a burden. I now recognise that this is not necessarily a healthy state of mind but I aim to be self sufficient and able to articulate these often elusive, vague, but powerful feelings first. I didn’t think it would take me a decade…

Indeed, I was part way through university when I realised I was fighting a losing battle with my hair. This was still very much part of my formative social years and my appearance was something I was greatly concerned about because I was meeting new people. I wanted to impress on both a professional and personal level and we’re conditioned to think that a lot of that depends on how you, and other people, look. Professionally, it’s important to be perceived as neat and tidy. Personally, I wanted to be perceived as attractive. Well-styled hair goes a long way as far as both of those are concerned.

Like many, I’d spent high school onwards trying to develop a style that I felt comfortable with. I had an emo/punk-rock inspired fringe (not pictured) that got a lot of compliments and I was comforted by my hair as a result, even if I wasn’t confident in other areas of my life (because what’s school if not an assault of social expectations concentrated tenfold on a daily basis?) As I got older, it started receding and thinning outwards and suddenly people were pointing out the worse areas of my hair. Not everyone, mind, but enough. Strangers came up to me in bars just to mess my hair up. At a rock gig, in a room full of hundreds of physically active people under very loud music, I still heard a group of people point out my hair in shock, laugh at it, and then tug at it to make it worse. I didn’t and don’t rely on compliments but you notice when they stop coming your way. That can make you feel like you’re changing in all the wrong ways which makes you feel pathetic and powerless if you can’t control why. And I didn’t think I could because I didn’t want to go bald so young and became decidedly stubborn.

While it has proven to be quite a slick look, this is because I had no way of knowing how being bald would actually make me or other people feel. The uncertainty of the idea was sickening so I tried not to entertain it much or rapidly dismiss people who suggested I shave it all off. After all, they weren’t physically or emotionally attached to my hair, right? It made me hate being outside, too. My hair didn’t weather the wind or rain well. It would blow back and become stringy and unkempt. If I wore a hood, or if I was in the sun too long, I’d sweat and it would become sticky and horribly matted. It made me feel disgusting and ugly and limited which made me reserved and anxious in turn. I didn’t even want to look at friends in the eye in case I wound myself into a paranoia wondering if they were thinking negative things about it. I’m hardly extroverted but it still made me recede socially in ways I don’t think I’ve quite made up for. I quickly realised this and yet I clung to my hair as a comfort because the potential of the alternative (not necessarily the alternative itself) seemed worse, despite how illogical, desperate, futile, and emotionally and mentally damaging it was.

Despite my reluctance to go bald, the fact of the matter is it was inevitable. I just had to reconcile when to do the deed, as much as I didn’t want to. I had always told myself I’d shave at 25, though probably just to appease myself rather than actually commit to the act. But, at 24, I was despairing over the situation too much for me to tolerate, so I searched for r/bald (assuming it would exist as Reddit has forums for nearly everything) and found the extremely supportive community therein.

I didn’t sleep at all that night because I was processing all the advice on there, weighing up the pros and cons, and trying to get out of anxious states. I was pacing up and down, jumping in and out of bed, and spent hours stretching my hair back in the mirror to emulate the bald look. But then I thought about two things. First, that I had always dismissed people who suggested I shave it off. I thought that meant they didn’t understand, especially with hair like some of theirs. But that was the point. What did they care? They weren’t emotionally attached to my hair but they were emotionally attached to me. Truthfully, they only cared that I was alright.

Second, I either kept my hair and continued to feel terrible about it before I shaved it off a year later and still went through the adjustment period anyway, or I saved myself a lot of time by getting it done immediately. Not as much as the years I’d lost worrying about it, mind you, but enough to make an immediate difference. I was also jobless at the time and didn’t have any crushes which was a relief because it minimised who I was concerned about adjusting to the change beyond me and my mates. Case and point: a lot of people are now using the coronavirus lockdown to try out a shaved head. The next day, I did the deed.

Posting a before and after picture on r/bald was difficult because I hate having my photo taken at the best of times, let alone with an exposed scalp and pathetic hair. Taking photos was something I found greatly affected by worrying about hair loss, too. I think there’s a pressure to be sociable and spontaneous enough to take photos but you risk making people feel like you don’t want to be a part of their memories if you don’t feel like that. It can seem like you’re making an unnecessary fuss over something others don’t seem to have a hard time with and you just come across as not-fun. But none of that is true. Lots of people struggle with the perception of themselves, especially where social media is concerned. I hope people prefer to remember how I’m capable of making them feel, even when I look how I look on my worst days, rather than how I look on my worst days. But, I hadn’t seen any examples quite as drastic as mine (and going by the comments, many hadn’t either), and I really like my bald look, so I thought the best I could do is return the favour to r/bald for giving me the confidence to go through with it. People go to great extents to cover up a balding head and if someone in a similar situation can see me feeling healthier, more confident, and happier, then more power to them. I’ve even managed to achieve that on r/bald by helping others get to the point of shaving their head.

And that’s the the cool thing about the community: it’s full of men giving other men unconditional support in baldness (though there’s also women shaving and engaging, too.) Just look at my post. You see posts get that level of engagement all the time but you don’t think it will happen to you, let alone for you. It’s weird to think that I have 800+ upvotes with 100+ comments from stranger men and women alike supporting me en-mass but I’m grateful for it because it softened the blow immediately. Ultimately, those people were instrumental in freeing me from the anxieties I was dealing with on a daily basis and I can’t thank them enough.

In fact, having access to that is probably the most important asset you have. I can’t guarantee the same level of engagement but a support network of people who know what you’re going through makes all the difference because so much of men’s mental health is undermined by other men. Being emotional is derided as a feminine trait and men are expected to suppress emotions to appeal to that misguided, old-world, sexist, condescending, and frankly inferior idea of what constitutes strong. This isn’t helpful when you consider that two thirds of worldwide suicides are male. There is a profound inability to engage, manage, and understand mental health, even with how much we know now, but if we can be allowed to admit to being anxious, depressed, emotional, insecure, wanting to be found attractive, not feeling good enough, feeling like there are far more micro pressures affecting our sense of self than we’re currently prepared to admit or are equipped to understand, and that the judgements we bestow on people are probably ill-informed, arrogant, and done from a place of fear, insecurity, and an undeserving sense of superiority designed to make us feel better, even at the cost of others, then I think we’re making a huge difference.

Ultimately, if bald men respect you for making the decision it means they respect themselves and that you’re allowed to respect yourself, too. Respect yourself and you won’t even need others’ validation anymore. Plus, it’s far more attractive to have had the confidence to shave your head than try to cover up something as obvious as a balding head can become. There are also plenty of practical applications to consider when going bald, too; things like: which shaving equipment is best to use; which skin care products and routines are right for you; how to maintain a beard; and even which gym routines are best to keep yourself physically healthy. A lot of people like to go for the bald, beard, and butch body look and who can blame them!?

Now I’m bald, there are noticeable differences in my life. For one, I actually really like the look. It’s a huge, low-cost, low-maintenance improvement on hair that’s functional and fashionable. I’m not hemorrhaging money into a lost cause by paying for hair products or cuts, I just need to be responsible with the razor I already owned for facial hair. I can walk through the wind and rain without worrying about how silly I look, just how silly I am for forgetting my hoody. Similarly, I can enjoy summers without bother, now. I even get to feel the — and I cannot stress this enough — phenomenal feeling of cold water on a hot, bald head. Of equal relief: I’m no longer afraid to look my friends or strangers in the eyes. This has improved how at ease I am in some social situations. I can still work myself into an anxious state about forthcoming events, especially for things like job interviews and gatherings with people I don’t really know, but there’s one less reason to make me worried and one more reason to reassure me. People out of my league compliment me. Not squandering that is a different problem entirely but it’s a very exciting prospect. Random people at gigs and bars don’t rake their hands through my hair and laugh at me in public. That’s very nice. More people should not do that. I will even sometimes let my photo be taken. Not often, so don’t get any ideas, but a little bit more than usual, and that’s promising. I’m grateful for every last one of these improvements and my only regret is that I didn’t shave sooner. In fact, as I think back on these things, I can’t help but think that in the decade I spent failing to maintain a punk-rock haircut, going bald was the most punk-rock thing of all.

With thanks to r/bald, everyone who didn’t make the transition a living hell, and everyone who won’t make the transition a living hell for someone else,

Sean