By Linsey 

I am immensely proud of my two boys. They seem to think that having a mum who is bald is really no big deal.

But for me, it’s still pretty much a big deal.

I was hit in the face with the reality of this as I walked into my son’s prep class at the end of the day. The class had been making collage pictures of their families.

‘Look, mum.’ My very proud six-year-old said as he held up his collage.

Our family as seen through the eyes of a six-year-old—four circles on top of four shirts and pants.

But what leapt out at me was the distinguishing feature, my bald head. There it was for all the world to see, a circle with a smiley face, looking like a colourful emoji with not a sign of hair anywhere.

I almost cried.

His brother had hair of bold red crayon strokes, my husband had brown hair and glasses (my son is good with the details) and he himself with his spiky yellow hair.

I balked. Panic clutched at my stomach. I frantically looked around to see if anyone else had noticed and tried to smile through gritted teeth.

‘That’s lovely darling.’

When I pick up and drop off my sons at school, I sometimes wear a wig, sometimes a hat and sometimes I go bare.

So what was the big deal this time?

I guess seeing it down on paper like that was so stark and confronting.

Thoughts raced through my head. Can I somehow smuggle the picture home?

I really didn’t want it to be hung up for the rest of the term in full view of anyone walking into the classroom.

What will everybody think?

I looked at my son’s proud little innocent face and fondly remembered the time he used to draw me with hair, ‘mum’s wig’. At least I looked like the ‘normal’ five-year-old depiction of a female.

Almost every time I go to drop off my sons or pick them up l see at all the other mum’s with their myriad hairstyles and have to coach myself with truth. Just because I don’t look like the average female does not mean I am not feminine. I am beautiful, I am loved, I am valuable and I am okay. It’s hard sometimes not to be overwhelmed by my doubts and fears.

And here was another reminder to me that my beautiful boy sees me just as I am and loves me regardless.

It was a jolt but ultimately a good one and a challenge for me. I don’t have hair and it’s hard and some days I just don’t want to show my face at school. But each day that I do is a building block to my own self-esteem and to how other parents and kids see someone who looks different. I can be okay with being bald, my family loves me and I can get used to it and grow.