The Bald Truth

Last night I went to a meeting for parents of students who will be enrolling at PV next school year. I am bald. Even though I am not private about my journey with canser, I dislike everyone knowing with one glance that I have it. It's an automatic pity trigger, and it makes it hard for me to be the outgoing person that I normally am. It robs me of my ability to look people in the eye, and turns me into one of those people who is perpetually looking down. I hate it.

On the way out of the meeting, I saw someone I know. She is the mother of one of Sierra's school friends. She also works at Paradise High, so we were colleagues all last year. She has been in my home and I have been in hers. I wouldn't say we are friends, but we are certainly well-acquainted and have always stopped to visit when we have run into each other in other settings. I saw her at the doors, and she saw me. I made eye contact with her and smiled. She did not recognize me, so I walked on by. I certainly didn't want to call her by name and draw attention to the fact that I am unrecognizable. It turns out we were parked right next to each other, and even while getting into our cars at the same time, it never dawned on her who I was.

I cried into my pillow about it.

That is all.