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The first time

The first time... I realized I was losing my hair

Jules,

37 years old

The bigger the hair, the harder the fall

I've always been told that. It's in your genes, Jules; one day or another, it will fall out, you'll see. So I was warned. But as a teenager, with my thick curly hair, it was hard to imagine. At the family dinner table, I looked at my grandfather, who was totally bald, and my father, who was balding in his thirties. And I felt invincible.

But one day it started. With a simple remark, at the hairdresser's. I had finally decided to cut my hair a bit before I left for Barcelona for six months to study. I wanted to mark the occasion. And to lighten my head a bit. I was growing up. But this simple sentence from the hairdresser made me feel the blow of old age. He said to me: "your hair is starting to get brittle".
And then I realized. My world stopped spinning; I thought: this is it, it’s finally happening. I took a closer look. And I saw, yes, that my hairline was starting to recede a little bit. When I lifted my curly locks, there, underneath. Adulthood was about to really kick in, and my hair was going to let me down little by little.

Then it became an obsession. As soon as I saw a reflection, I looked at myself in it: in shop windows, in subway windows, in the mirror in the morning. I would zoom in on the smallest photo to scrutinize everything wrong on my head. I thought, this is unfair; my hair... why is this being taken away from me? I was getting a bit paranoid; I thought that was all anyone could see, and that they couldn't see me anymore. And I told myself that maybe my exams and my graduation at the end of the year were stressing me out. I felt even more guilty. We always think that it's only going to happen to others, so when it actually affects us, it hurts.

I decided to find out more; I researched hereditary hair loss and tried different treatments and cures to stop the hair loss. I felt like some of them worked. That the hair loss could be stopped. I learned to massage my scalp to stimulate microcirculation. And then one day I met Delphine. She looked at me differently. She thought I was handsome, and she told me that she couldn’t see anything. Well, she only talked about my eyes. Very blue, yes; my grandfather's eyes, in fact. It gave me back my self-confidence.

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The first time

"At 37, it was time to make a decision. At the root. I cut my hair very, very short."

And then recently it hit me. Two months ago, Delphine took a photo of me from the balcony while I was helping my son ride his bike down the street. But when you looked at the picture, that's all you could see. A big bald spot on the back of my head. It came as quite a shock but I resigned myself. I decided that I wouldn’t go around in circles. At 37, it was time to make a decision. At the root. I cut my hair very, very short. My hairdresser tried to be funny and told me that I had Zidane's hair. He was the only one to laugh. The first three days with my new haircut, I had trouble recognizing myself. But I was alright with it. I took matters into my own hands, and even today I still massage with special oils and collect expert treatments to strengthen my roots.

And then I have a little secret. To restore the balance, I've grown a beautiful beard. It's all you can see now! I really like my new style. And so does my son. He tells everyone that when he grows up he wants to have the same beard as his dad.

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