Baldly Forward

There are always people who assume I have cancer. I accept that I will get questions about my health and receive inquiries and kindnesses that I may not receive if I had hair. What I’m thinking about today are the specific kindnesses intended for someone experiencing a struggle that I am not. As I write this post, I send out love and compassion to anyone who is or has experienced cancer. I write this note ahead of my stories, because I want everyone reading this to feel safe and seen.

I’ve had some rather interesting moments that involve people treating me EXTRA kind because they think I’m sick. I find it uncomfortable and think it’s good to laugh a little instead of letting it all frustrate me. In this post, I’ll share a couple of those experiences and how I’m learning to process and handle them.

Understanding That Kindness Is Kindness

I often wear hats out in public. Some of those hats make it obvious that I am bald… plus my lack of eyelashes and eyebrows are very telling. One evening, my girlfriend and I were having dinner in a little town outside of Louisville. I was wearing a slouchy hat… not thinking at all about the hat looking like a cancer cap. Just eating dinner… enjoying my girlfriend’s company.

When it was time for our check, the server came by and knelt near me like she had a secret. She shared that someone who was sitting nearby (and had already left the restaurant) paid for our dinner. This person told our server that someone in their family had gone through a battle with cancer. My appearance made them reflect on this experience, and they wanted to do something kind and encouraging for me.

I was caught off guard and didn’t know what to think at first. That’s never happened to me and hasn’t since. I explained to our server that I don’t have cancer and expressed how touched I was by this gesture.

Here are a few thoughts that streamed through my mind in that moment:

• “Oh no! I’ve received a gift that doesn’t really belong to me.”
• “What a thoughtful person!” I hope their loved one is okay.”
• “I look sick? Oh… shit.”
• “I had better stop wearing this hat.”

Reframing the Moment

Then I quickly landed on what I consider the best way to think of this scenario. This person showed me warmth and kindness from an extremely vulnerable and intimate place in their heart. They needed to do this for me. When goodness like this is exchanged, it helps both parties— the giver and the receiver.

That’s why I received their kindness and the energy from this act and internalized it instead of overthinking it. It didn’t matter that they thought I had cancer. Their intention was to be kind and encouraging to me, and they succeeded. Any reminder that there is still such beauty in the world is fine by me!

Truth be told, I did need this act of kindness. Around this time, I had started going out more (and sometimes bald) after quarantining during the pandemic. I was experiencing what felt like childhood bullying on a couple occasions. I may share some of those experiences in another post, but I’ll focus on the sweet stuff for this one.

Honk If You Need Kindness

Other than being stared at (and called out on occasion by children), I’m usually treated just like everyone else. But there have been a couple times when I was given a little extra customer service, and it was completely lost on me that it was in response to my appearance.

Recently, I was getting gas at Costco. Like every other day I’ve pumped gas, I waited for the click and started to finish up my transaction. But before I could do anything, a man who worked there came by and asked, “Can I take that for you?” I was holding the handle and securing my gas cap with the other hand. I said, “Sure! Thank you so much!”

I had pulled the hose to the other side of the car, so I just thought he was noticing that my hands were full in trying to keep the hose steady. Then he asked if I’d like for him to grab my receipt. Again, I said, “Sure! Thank you!” I even threw in a “this must be my lucky day.”

As I grabbed my receipt, the guy said, “You know you can just honk when you pull up, and we’ll come out and pump your gas for you”

Me, still completely clueless, stood there amazed that Costco offers this service to their customers, and I never knew it. I told him that I had no idea about that and then thanked him and wished him a great day. I got back in the car where my girlfriend was waiting— hearing every word of our conversation. I asked if she knew they offered this service. She told me that they only offer that to people with disabilities.

OH! He thinks I have cancer. Just as I had previously thought, Costco isn’t a full-service filling station for members who honk.

Viewing it All Through a Grateful Lens

Like I mentioned, this kind of thing has only happened a couple times, and it had been a while since. As we drove away from Costco, I began questioning my appearance. Hmmm…I did have a hat on. I hadn’t felt great for the past couple days. I asked my girlfriend if I look sick. She said I didn’t.

Then I stopped there.

People are going to think I have cancer because I’m bald. Period. I have no control over that. I do, however, have control over my own thoughts and how I react in those situations.

I’ve had a number of people ask me directly if I have cancer. What I find is that they are asking for a reason… to make a connection. Just before my Costco gas pump experience, I had been out furniture shopping. The salesperson asked me if I have cancer. When I told him I did not and explained, he shared his personal journey with me. He had just celebrated 5 years of remission. Because he asked about my situation, he was able to share that milestone, and I had the opportunity to congratulate him and be a part of his moment.

Love Is Always Right

The way the world feels lately, thoughtfulness is not always something we encounter out at dinner, the furniture store, or the gas pump. We all deserve and so desperately need more kindness. Wouldn’t you like a little more in your life— regardless of the reason?

Although the acts of kindness involving a few of my experiences are slightly misdirected, we’ll always be right on target when we’re good to people. Our assumptions may be wrong, but love is always right.