Lesley’s Hair Loss Journey: Breaking the Silence
The Journey to Confidence: My Wig-Wearing Story
For as long as I can remember, I had great hair—very fine, but plenty of it. It was easy to style, took a curl beautifully, and dried quickly. Even when I discovered my first grey hair at 18, it didn't bother me; my hair still felt like my crowning glory. But as I reached my mid-fifties, I started to notice subtle yet unsettling changes: my parting grew wider, and my scalp became more visible. I couldn’t ignore it any longer—my hair was thinning.
A TV program introduced me to the concept of hair weaves, and although they were costly, I decided to give them a try. For over 12 years, I managed with a weave, spending at least £2,000 per year to maintain it. It never truly disguised my receding hairline, and I never liked how I looked in photos, but it was the only solution I knew. It wasn’t until an old school friend, visiting from Australia, shared her secret—she wore wigs—that I began to reconsider my options. Her confidence and glamour planted a seed in my mind that would soon change my life.
Nearly a year later, after an ill-fated investment in a real hair topper and two unsuccessful bob haircuts, I finally found my solution: the Onda by Ellen Wille. I still remember the first time I put it on—it was as if I had reclaimed a part of myself. Friends and family complimented my hair color, completely unaware that it was a wig. For the first time in years, I loved how I looked in photographs.
Breaking the Stigma
As a healthcare professional, I frequently encountered individuals wearing wigs due to hair loss. In the UK, wig-wearing is largely associated with illness, hidden away as if it were something to be ashamed of.
Wigs, for many women, are still seen as either medical necessities or covert disguises. Only those who can afford custom-made, real-hair wigs manage to avoid public scrutiny. It became clear to me that wig-wearing in the UK wasn’t celebrated; it was concealed. Unlike women of African or Jewish heritage, for whom wigs are often a proud part of their beauty routine, UK women seem to hide under a veil of secrecy.
Finding My Confidence
After years of avoiding mirrors and dreading photographs, I now embrace my reflection with confidence. I’ve experimented with different styles and colors—sometimes with success, sometimes not—but always with a sense of adventure. I’ve narrowed my favorites down to Ellen Wille's Onda, Sound, Girl Mono, and Delight. My collection has grown.
Yet, wig-wearing in the UK remains largely unspoken. I’ve tried reaching out to media outlets to raise awareness, to show that wigs aren’t just for medical hair loss—they can be a choice, a fashion statement, a reclaiming of confidence. But those attempts have largely been ignored.
I wish more women knew that they don’t have to endure the sadness of thinning hair or the discomfort of hair loss. There is a solution—one that doesn’t have to be hidden. Wigs can be a powerful tool for rediscovering self-love and confidence. I’m living proof of that.
Embracing the Mirror
Now, after so many years of shying away from photographs and feeling self-conscious about my hair, I find myself—dare I say—vain. I love my wigs, I love my reflection, and I love the freedom that wig-wearing has given me. My journey has been long, but it has led me to a place of self-acceptance and pride.
To anyone out there struggling with hair loss or feeling like they need to hide, know that you don’t. Wig-wearing can be empowering, beautiful, and most importantly, it can be yours to embrace with confidence.
