By Max Cutler, Alyia Bettman’s boyfriend. They’ve been together for two years.
I met Alyia at summer camp where we dated during the summer of 2005. She has had alopecia universalis ever since I’ve known her. It was her personality and fearlessness in being herself, embracing her alopecia and being self-confident that I was so attracted to. It was attractive to me that Alyia didn’t wear a wig. She was cute, sexy and most importantly comfortable and confident in her self.
If there are women who are afraid to tell other people that they have alopecia, here’s my advice about it: There are good guys out there. You’re probably making more out of it than any outsider is. Confidence in yourself is sexy. Take a step back from television, media and celebrities and think about what is really important in life — it’s not hair.
I’d say that you just have to keep life in perspective, focus on what you like about your body, seek out supportive friends and don’t be scared to talk about your feelings and your alopecia. If you’re reading this because you have a child with alopecia, have confidence that you and your child will get through it.
What do I love most about Alyia? It’s her ability to go bald in public and not wear a wig in the midst of the immense cultural pressures to be beautiful. I have no doubt that her confidence is a direct result of her parents’ strong and loving support. Her mother gives regular positive affirmations — “You’re beautiful. You’re stunning.”
It used to frustrate me that Alyia could not accept compliments regarding her appearance and often would brush them off, as if she couldn’t believe what I was saying. This, understandably, was an ongoing struggle between us. I wanted her to own her universalis, to accept and appreciate her body and her beauty as a universalis woman.
I have a special relationship with Alyia’s bald head. I love it. I need to caress, rub, hold and kiss it. We joke about her lack of eyebrows, her sensitive skin, and the “perks” of having alopecia such as not needing to shave.
It’s hard to see strangers staring at Alyia, especially young kids who may point and laugh. It hurts me that people can be so insensitive and shortsighted. It’s hard for me when older parents approach her and ask about chemotherapy, or say they are cancer survivors. I don’t want it to feel like a burden for her. It’s unfair. She wants to be like everyone else and yet can’t. It seems like making the choice not to wear a wig comes with strings: people expect you to be a “spokesperson,” “a role model,” a strong woman. I just want her to be comfortable in her own skin.
Alyia is a beautifully caring being who has unending love to give to others. She has inherent beauty, vibrancy, and warmth and she exudes it. She is the sweetest, most selfless, caring person I know — with or without hair.
Bald Girls Do Lunch is the only nonprofit created specifically to help women with alopecia areata cope, gain confidence and feel a sense of community.
