Woven Through Grief: How Wigs Helped Me Heal
Grief, Growth, and Great Hair: How Wigs Helped Me Heal
In October 2022, I lost my father. Less than three weeks later, on November 10th, I experienced an even greater heartbreak—my daughter, my only child, was tragically killed in a hit-and-run accident. The grief was so overwhelming, it became paralyzing. From that moment, I stopped caring for myself entirely. I didn’t style my hair, I didn’t get dressed, I simply existed under the crushing weight of loss.
When the time came for my father’s memorial service in June 2023, I realized how neglected I’d become. My hair was in terrible shape, so I booked an appointment at a local salon. That day, the stylist convinced me to try a pixie cut - and it was a disaster. My hair, barely half an inch long and full of cowlicks, stuck straight up no matter what I did. Desperate for a fix, I made a two-hour drive to the nearest wig shop and left with Lynsey by Envy. It was my first wig—and the start of something I never could have predicted.
I wore that wig to my father’s service and immediately felt more like myself again. From that point on, I became obsessed with wigs — not just as a beauty solution, but as a form of self-care. Wigs gave me something to look forward to, something to focus on. They became my preoccupation, my hobby, my way of reclaiming a sense of normalcy and control. In the midst of unspeakable grief, they offered me a small but powerful comfort.
Because I work from home, I rarely leave the house or wear makeup these days. Wigs are the one thing I do just for myself. I may not be “put together” in the traditional sense, but when I have one of my wigs on, I feel wonderful. It’s a simple act that changes everything—just pop one on, and I’m transformed.
Like many, I had no idea about the world of wigs until I started wearing them. I purchased my first wig without much knowledge. Later, I discovered you could buy wigs online and realized how many amazing styles and brands were out there. That discovery opened up an entirely new world — and I dove in headfirst.
My husband has been wonderfully supportive. He offers his opinions and gives honest feedback, which I appreciate. He is quick to tell me which styles just aren't working for me! I’ve faced a bit of pushback from other family members who do not understand, but I’ve learned this: I don’t owe anyone an explanation. Wigs are my choice. They bring me joy, and that’s all that matters.
Starting out, I was sure everyone could tell I was wearing a wig. It took time to gain confidence and learn how to make wigs look natural. Now, I wear one every day without giving it a second thought. There’s a definite learning curve, but it’s worth the effort. I even keep my bio hair short, specifically so I can wear wigs more comfortably. I leave just enough around the edges to blend if needed—my natural color works beautifully with rooted shades.
One of the most meaningful parts of my wig journey was donating a few styles that didn’t work for me. My hairdresser gave one to a woman undergoing chemotherapy the very same day. Knowing that my wig helped someone else feel beautiful during a hard time was incredibly rewarding.
Wearing wigs has helped me reclaim a part of myself after loss. It’s one thing I do purely for me — not out of obligation, but because I love it. And I’ve learned a lot along the way:
- Be cautious with customization. I ruined several wigs early on trying to “make them my own”—cutting off ear tabs, pulling out stays, thinning too aggressively. My advice? Wear it as-is for a while. You might fall in love with it just the way it is.
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Don’t be discouraged. The perfect style may not come immediately. When I first tried a wig with permatease, I hated it. Now? Ignite by Jon Renau is my all-time favorite. Give yourself time.
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Join the community. The Facebook group is a goldmine. Don’t be afraid to ask questions or share photos. Often, the wig looks better on you than you think it does.
- You don’t need a reason. Wigs aren’t just for medical hair loss—they’re for fashion, self-expression, convenience, or comfort. You don’t have to justify why you wear them.
Today, I own wigs from Envy, Raquel Welch, Jon Renau, Belle Tress, Noriko, TressAllure, and Rene of Paris. Each one has a special place in my heart. My “errand wig” is the one I wear when I run into town—it gives me consistency, so I don’t feel self-conscious about changing my look too often in front of the neighbors.
Grief changes you. Sometimes in small ways, sometimes in profound ones. For me, wigs have become a lifeline. They helped me step back into the world, even if only a little at a time. I may not be able to control the heartbreak I’ve endured, but I can control how I face each day — with courage, resilience, and great hair.
