Piece by Piece

Yesterday was the first time in years I got my hair done by a professional. For many years I cut my own hair because I had a lot of shame about the bald patches I had on my scalp. These bald spots were/are from pulling my hair, a body-focused repetitive behavior called trichotillomania, so I simply avoided salons. As most of you know from my previous post, I buzzed off my hair back in July because I was struggling so bad with my hair pulling that I have since then worn a wig. I had met with a stylist in August who basically made me feel like I was wasting his time and felt as though he was disgusted by me and my hair. I had a bad feeling about the interaction and was able to find someone else who was willing to work with me. The appointment was booked and man, was I excited (and terrified). Prior to my appointment I had terrible anxiety because I felt like my 'wish' hairstyle wouldn't be able to be done. The time slowly ticked by yesterday until it was time...moment of trut