It's that time of year again!

I've been growing my hair since this past November, solely for St. Baldricks. You might know that I like to keep my hair short, so this is probably the longest my hair has ever been. Let me tell you: when you are used to having short hair for your whole life, 6 months (although it doesn't seem like much) starts to feel like forever and you start to get really annoyed with your hair. 

I can't go on my daily runs without some type of hair getting in my face. Neither can I take my tests or even do my schoolwork without strands of hair blocking my eyesight. In fact, my hair is falling into my face as I'm typing this out. My hair is too short to put it in a lasting ponytail yet too long to not bother me, so I'm stuck with either a hideous looking ponytail or having to do the awkward tuck-hair-behind-ear thing (which eventually falls down). 

All of these are thoughts that come into my head; I can't help but be annoyed. But there's a small thought that accompanies all of my grievances. So small, so simple, yet it refutes all of my other complaints entirely: what if I never got the chance to have hair again?

In the United States, approximately 10,000 to 16,000 children are diagnosed with cancer annually, making the average age for those diagnoses 8-10 years old. And every 2 minutes, a child is diagnosed with cancer in the world, totaling up to 300,000 children sick every year.

Cancer is a sick, malicious, and twisted thing that I wish, one day, we will be able eradicate it. I wish that that day, we can indict it for its relentless felonies to leave it to rot in the darkest, most empty corner of its rusty and impoverished jail cell so it can never see the beauty of light again. 

Cancer even tried to wrap its hands around my own mother in 2024. A dark and scary time it was, but cancer didn't know the strength my mom had (and has). My mom battled through and won. Through several radiation treatments and ongoing medication, my mom kicked cancer right in its behind. Never could I have been more grateful because I'm not sure what I would do without my mama: my strength is derived from hers.

So, when I'm asked why I'm shaving my head, this is why: for my mother, for the kids diagnosed, and for my gratefulness of everything I'm able to do. 

Don't wait! Make a donation today. You can trust me, every little bit helps. I thank all of you in advance.