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When I look back at myself at 22, I wish I could sit beside that girl and tell her, ''It’s going to be okay and everything will work out exactly as it’s meant to.”
I have alopecia areata, and over the years, I’ve always felt there was a connection between periods of intense stress and my hair loss. Including losing people I loved, my hair would fall out each time I went through a difficult moment in my life. I began to see it as my body’s way of telling me to slow down. It felt as though my body was responding to everything I was struggling to process internally.
Before alopecia, I had a complicated relationship with my hair, but over time I had learned to love it. It was big, thick and curly, and it felt like a part of who I was. Then one day, while my best friend was cutting my hair at home in Surrey, she noticed a small patch. I remember wondering how it had happened and what it could have been from.
That tiny patch was the beginning of a journey that would completely change my relationship with my hair, my confidence, my career and ultimately, the direction of my life. For years, I hid my hair loss. I learned how to style my hair in certain ways, constantly thinking about what people could see. I was deeply ashamed and, at times, became a shell of the person I had been. Anxiety and depression became a big part of my life.
I threw myself into work, particularly hospitality. Coffee became an obsession, and my career gave me a reason to keep moving. I had some incredible experiences opening cafes in many different countries and meeting amazing people along the way. But underneath all of that, I was still trying to work out how to live with losing my hair.
Then, one night, while searching online, I came across The Amber Jean website. I booked an appointment for the very next day. I sat opposite Amber, and what struck me most was how comfortable she was in her own skin.
I had an amazing bespoke wig made, and for the first time in a long time, I had beautiful hair again. It gave me confidence and allowed me to feel like myself.
Shortly after, something changed in me. I noticed I didn’t feel the same need or want for my natural hair anymore. Instead, I had this urge to shave it off. So I did. I shaved it off. It was scary, but I felt carefree and empowered. I felt like I was taking control of the situation. Finally, after all these years, I felt in control. For the first time in a long time, I wasn't constantly tied down by the shame of hiding myself.
I still wore my wig most days—to work, to social events, whenever I wanted to and I think that's important. My wig wasn't about pretending I didn't have alopecia. It gave me a choice.
A few months later, I took a job abroad in a very hot country. I knew I would be there for months, and suddenly I had a decision to make: wear my wig every day, or go as myself. When the temperature reached 45°C, I could barely breathe in the heat. so I told my boss, about my alopecia in confidence. His response, in his very direct, ex-military way, was simple: ''Just take it off now. The first thing they see of you is that, and they have nothing else to compare.”
He was right. Nobody there had ever seen me with hair, so they had no previous version of me to compare me to. They would simply meet me as I was. After a four-hour car journey, I got out, took my wig off and walked in with my head held high—or at least I pretended to! The next day, I went to work without it.
It wasn't easy. One woman cried when she saw me and repeatedly asked what had happened. But those uncomfortable moments became part of the process of accepting myself. I was showing up every day exactly as I was. Over time, I felt more confident and, strangely, more respected.
I continued working abroad, surrounded by incredible people who helped me through that chapter of my life. After a few years, I realised something. I wanted to work with women experiencing hair loss too. I reached out to Amber Jean, and as luck would have it, there was a job opportunity.
I’ve worked here for six months now, and every day I get to meet and work alongside incredible women who are navigating something I know all too well.
Looking back after ten years, I can finally see the bigger picture. I wouldn't have chosen this journey but I can see now that it led me to the woman I was always meant to become. Maybe that's the strangest, most beautiful thing about alopecia: sometimes, losing something you thought defined you can lead you towards discovering who you really are. I'm exactly where I'm meant to be and I'm incredibly proud to be here.
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