How I Stopped Hiding My Alopecia—And Started Showing Up as Myself

Since she moved to New York City last year, Armonie Wilson has thrived as a content creator and model, proudly displaying her baldness.

But the Texas native, who’s had alopecia since age 3, hadn’t even considered forgoing a wig just two years ago. Here’s what changed—and what she wished she knew sooner.

Tell us about the moment you decided to first go wig-less.

Wilson: In 2023, when I was 23 or 24, I decided to try going without my wig. I was working on this elevator pitch to sell self-care journals I designed. My goal was to empower other women to embrace their insecurities, and I just broke down crying in front of the mirror. I realized: How can I tell other women to feel free in themselves if I can’t even open my windows without a wig or bonnet on?

So I set a tiny goal. I told myself: Just walk from your car to your door without the wig. It’s a two-minute walk in a parking garage. I sat in my car for 10 minutes before I could even open the door. But when I finally got inside, I took the deepest breath. I felt so much relief.

After that, being bald around strangers didn’t scare me. It was actually my friends and my partner at the time who I felt I had to prepare. It’s not that I needed their validation; I just knew seeing me bald would be a bit of a jumpscare for them. No one knew I had alopecia!

You mentioned that when you were in a long-term relationship, your partner didn’t even know about your alopecia. What was that like?

Wilson: It was scary. I’d worn the same kind of wig for eight or nine years. When I started dating someone, he gave me a casual compliment about my hair, and I panicked—what if he finds out this isn’t mine? So I switched up my look to make it more obvious that I wore wigs, even though I never said why.

We were together for three years, and along the way, I just assumed he knew. I figured he’d noticed I didn’t have any hair when my wig slipped or something. But I never explicitly told him.

I thought I was protecting my peace by not talking about it. I wish I realized that almost nobody knew I had alopecia, and when they did, nobody cared as much as I thought they would.

You tried a lot of treatments to preserve your hair as a kid. Is there anything you wish you’d done differently? 

Wilson: I wish my mom had been more open to holistic options. These days, I won’t take medication unless it’s absolutely necessary. Since my diagnosis, my uncle has always said I should focus on nutrition. And now I see what he meant. When I juice or exercise consistently, I get more hair growth, even if it’s just patches.

My childhood alopecia treatment began with steroid injections and pills. After I got my hair texturized, it thinned out a lot. And then an acid treatment basically took it all out. I wish we had started more naturally.

You started wearing wigs in eighth grade. Looking back, especially as someone who no longer wears them, would you have made the same decision? 

Wilson: It was easy to start wearing wigs as I was losing my hair because I was dancing at the time, so I was already wearing wigs for performances. I started with those. I switched to wearing a long-term wig after all my hair fell out freshman year.

I’ve always gone back and forth on my wig days. Should I have embraced my baldness sooner? I think if I had gone wig-free in high school, I probably would’ve gotten bullied. The kids around me wouldn’t have understood. I think my life would’ve been harder.

I do wish I’d perfected the art of laying and making wigs. I didn’t know then how hard it would be for me, as a Black woman, to relate to others when I haven’t had that shared hair experience. I only know how to make glueless wigs.

What do you wish you knew about how strangers see you? 

Wilson: I’m still figuring that out. I just moved from Texas to New York, and people stare at me on the subway. Is it because I’m bald? Because they think I look weird? Because I look beautiful? I don’t know.

My friends are super protective now. If someone looks at me sideways, they’re ready to pounce. But I’m learning to be more comfortable with the unknown.

The people I’m most uncomfortable around are usually kids! They’re so brutally honest. They’ll ask, “Why are you bald? Do you have cancer?” When I was ready to stop wearing wigs, I was scared to show my younger cousins. When I finally did, they surprised me.

One said, “I love it. I just love it.” Another said, “Why would you do that? I would never cut my hair off!” And the little ones just stared. One didn’t even recognize me at first. But they got used to it—and so did I.

What’s your confidence-boosting trip for someone else navigating alopecia? 

Wilson: To be more confident, you have to be okay with being uncomfortable and stepping out into something that is unusual, whether that’s unusual to you or to everyone else. You never know unless you try. Pushing my own limits is how I’ve boosted my own confidence. If works, cool. If it doesn’t, I try something else.