Meet Christal

Hey Bestie, Let me be real with you for a moment — I despised standing in front of the mirror because my reflection had become a stranger. There I was, staring my new truth square in the eye: a balding, inflamed scalp. There were no warning signs, no clumps of hair left on my pillow or brush. The change was swift, almost like my mind blocked the trauma from me because it was too much to bear. My hair had never been thick — 4c texture, nape-length at best — but it was mine. I rocked all the styles growing up: the '80s Jerry curl, '90s box braids, and the early 2000s molded pixie cut. So when the lesions, sores, and unstoppable tears showed up in my early 20s, it wasn't just hair falling out — it felt like pieces of my identity were crumbling away, too. Playing dress-up used to bring me joy. Suddenly, it felt like the joy had been ripped away. My femininity? Jaded. My spirit? Wounded. I hated what was happening to me, but I tried everything to hide it — smearing L'Oréal waterproof mascara on my scalp between thinning strands, sprinkling chopped-up hair extensions over bald patches. In my mind, each attempt carried a little hope, but failure always won. I cried—a lot. And I smiled even more — using humor to mask the pain. Inside, I felt unattractive, guilty, and sometimes even resentful toward women who complained about "bad hair days" while I was praying just to have hair again. Every morning felt like emotional warfare. Even the background noise of shampoo commercials stung like tiny daggers. While commuting, I buried my face in a book but couldn't escape the twiddling fingers of someone playing with their hair and the messy bedheads around me. I just wanted to feel beautiful again—without needing to perform magic tricks just to leave the house. Then came the workplace comments. They went something like this: "Oh, new hairstyle, Christal?" "That's different." "Is that your real hair?" "Can I touch it?" Like, what part of my hair journey gave you permission to treat me like the office mascot?! If only they knew the exhaustion it took just to get out of bed — or the pain of a scalp so inflamed it bled from the itching. Sigh. Over time, I became the Houdini of Hair. Headwraps, toupees, wigs — you name it, I mastered it. But inside? I was a hot mess. I can't tell you the exact moment it happened, but eventually, I had enough. I finally acknowledged — though I hadn't fully accepted — that some areas of my hair were never coming back. And that realization forced me to make a choice: Let my circumstances define me. Use this as an opportunity to dig deeper and heal beyond hair loss. Recognize that I am NOT my feelings of doubt, sadness, anger, or low self-esteem. I chose Door #2 and #3. and that's when my real journey began. I saw specialists, did bloodwork, allergy tests, and dermatology consultations, and, after ten long years, a scalp biopsy finally gave my struggle a name: Central Centrifugal Cicatricial Alopecia (CCCA), a form of scarring alopecia that permanently destroys hair follicles and replaces them with scar tissue. CCCA can cause severe itching, pain, burning, and fast progression. The causes are still unclear. The treatments vary from person to person but can include anti-inflammatory medications, steroid injections, and topical creams—none are guaranteed. I spent years trying every home remedy under the sun with little success. Then, one random day on the internet (God bless random days!), I discovered a naturopathic doctor and a medical doctor who specialized in chronic conditions like mine. Their approach wasn't about a quick fix but a holistic approach to treating my whole body, which included a deep dive into my diet, stress levels, sleeping patterns, and social patterns— everything that made me tick. I won't lie to you: I wasn't sleeping well. I was moody. I was comfort-eating junk food like it was a second job, and my internal clock was completely out of whack. So, with the guidance of my doctors, I took a hard look in the mirror again — and this time, I chose to fight for myself. I eliminated gluten, cut out dairy, and drastically reduced sugar to see if eliminating certain foods would help relieve my symptoms and bring my body back to its center. Walking into the grocery store for the first time as a gluten- and dairy-free newbie? Whew! Talk about overwhelming! I was reading every label, not realizing that gluten and dairy were lurking in many of the foods I loved. And paying $7.99 for a loaf of bread?! Uh, no thanks. Instead, I loaded my cart with fruits, veggies, and beans and decided to figure it out, one meal at a time. Before I go on, let me be clear: This was my personal experience. Removing gluten and dairy helped me tremendously, not in growing my hair back, but by allowing my body to purge and cleanse itself from things that were hindering it from performing at its best. Eliminating certain foods might not be the right solution for you. We are all different, and our bodies respond differently, so it's important to consult a healthcare practitioner to help you make the right decision that best fits your needs. Fast forward to today, I am no longer on a strict elimination diet. However, I am intentional about what I eat while not depriving myself of the foods I love, and I do so in moderation. When I sit back and reflect, it's been quite the journey. And from one alopecian to another — life is quirky, messy, and sometimes straight-up unfair, but it's still beautiful. I used to hate my alopecia. Now? I'm grateful for her. She taught me resilience, patience, empathy, and self-love on a level I never knew was possible. If I hadn't walked through this fire, I wouldn't be here writing this open letter to YOU. You — the one feeling perhaps less attractive, frustrated, confused, angry, and even isolated. But I see you because I am you. No one can fully understand the heartbreak unless they've lived it. But girl, hear me when I say: You are beautiful — with or without hair. Society doesn't define you. Other people's opinions don't define you. YOU define yourself. Today, I say this with my whole chest: "I rock a bald head that I absolutely love." My crown is a blank canvas—one that lets me play with accessories, makeup, fashion, headwraps, scalp embellishments, and henna crowns. Why? Because alopecia gave me fabulous commitment issues — and your girl LOVES options! I'm not perfect. I don't have it all figured out, but I lead by example to show you that it's okay to be imperfectly perfect. I don't believe in coincidences. This journey is for a greater purpose. It has deepened my faith, grown my heart, and given me the mission to help women like YOU step into your light — unapologetically. So believe me when I say: There is life beyond alopecia. This vlog is for you! You're welcome. ❤️ — Christal aka Your Bald Bestie