I’ve worked toward self-acceptance. I just wish the rest of the world would catch up.
If anything was a bright red stop sign telling me to cut out spiraling thoughts, this was it.
The threat or life-long reality of no hair is scary, painful and hard.
At the age of 10, I was diagnosed with Alopecia, which is an autoimmune skin condition resulting in hair loss. So when I got the opportunity and platform of being a professional athlete, I launched a program called "Charlie's Angels" with the National Alopecia Areata Foundation.
Alopecia is a hardcore thief. Not your "Harry-and-Marv-from-Home Alone-"sticky bandit"-who-you-kinda-love" type of thief. Not even the kind you can arrest and throw into jail.
Six months ago, I was finishing up a musical in North Carolina when all of my hair started falling out due to Alopecia. By September, I was completely bald.
Since I was a rookie in the NBA, I've been hosting a blessed opportunity while out on the road to hang out with a group of children and their parents affected by the skin condition alopecia areata, which I've had since I was 10.
Despite the pain, there is still so much joy left in me. I know I'll be OK. All of this is new to me. I don't know my next steps just yet, other than allowing myself to feel whatever it is I'm feeling that day. I will continue to write and document my progress and gain more clarity as time passes.
Sure, I'm balding. Shitty. And the situation really f**king sucks. But sometimes, in the realm of bigger problems that I don't have, it doesn't. There is an abundance that I am incredibly thankful and happy for -- you have no idea.