I just hit 10,000 followers on TikTok this week. Wild.

Although it’s just a number, what it represents to me is consistency. Showing up. Being vulnerable and finding a community that is going through a similar journey of discovery.

When I posted my first video about my "silly toupee" less than a year ago, I thought maybe fifty people would see it. Maybe my mom would comment…twice.

Instead, thousands of strangers started sharing things they'd never told anyone. The DMs all start the same way: "I've never told anyone this, but..."

If you're reading this right now, I know exactly where you are. Even if it’s not about hair for you, the mindset is what’s all too familiar.

Maybe you’ve been watching hair system installs or before and afters on social media.

You’ve Googled "hair systems" a million times, probably late at night when everyone else is asleep. You feel that surge of possibility. Then you close them all and tell yourself you'll deal with it later.

Here's what I wish someone had told me back then:

This was never about vanity. Or hair.

You think you're being shallow or a “fraud” by wanting to address a physical feature. You think you should just accept it. You tell yourself it doesn't matter that much.

But here's what's actually happening:

You're spending an enormous amount of mental energy managing one insecurity. You don't even realize how much until it's gone.

I didn't know I was consumed with feelings of “less than” because of my hair, until that feeling stopped.

I didn't know I was calculating angles in every single photo. Turning slightly left, making sure the light hit a certain way, deleting three shots before keeping one.

Panicking when I didn’t have a hat close by, even just to take out the trash. I didn't know I was performing a version of myself I'd "accepted" but secretly hated.

The weirdest part? The identity loss.

That sounds dramatic, but that's what it was. I didn't recognize myself anymore.

The guy in photos wasn't the guy in my head. Somewhere along the way, I'd lost a piece of my identity to something I couldn't control, and I was supposed to be okay with that.

I wasn't okay with that.

Getting a hair system didn't magically make me confident. It didn't transform my life overnight or make me a different person.

It gave me back my bandwidth.

All that energy I'd been burning. The mirror checks, the hat calculations, the photo anxiety, the constant low-grade awareness that something was wrong—it just... stopped.

And suddenly I had room for other things:

Here's the thing nobody wants to say out loud:

Women enhance everything. Makeup. Extensions. Lashes. Shapewear. Colored contacts. Push-up bras. Spray tans. We call it self-care. We call it confidence. We call it taking care of yourself.

A man loses his hair and suddenly we're supposed to "embrace it" or risk being called insecure.

There's this weird nobility we're supposed to perform, like there's a trophy waiting for us if we just accept our baldness gracefully enough.

Fuck that.

There's no trophy. There's no award for suffering through something that makes you feel like a stranger to yourself.

I'm not more authentic bald. I'm just more uncomfortable.

And you know what's actually authentic? Being honest about my choice. Not hiding that I wear a hair system. Not pretending it doesn't matter to me. Not performing acceptance I don't feel.

Just being real: this matters to me, I chose to address it, and I'm not apologizing for that.

The first thirty days are strange.

You'll feel relief the instant you decide to address your insecurity head-on.

Even before you order anything or make that first salon appointment. That's how you'll know this was the right call.

The decision itself lifts weight.

Then comes the waiting. The second-guessing. The "did I just waste money on vanity?" anxiety.

Then that day arrives.

You’re sitting in the chair at the salon, you asked a million questions but you barely remember any of the answers.

You’re feeling a bit sweaty and nervous.

You see your new hair on for the first time and you look in the mirror and it's weird. You look like yourself but also not yourself.

You look like the old version. You look like a stranger. You look like someone pretending.

Give it a week.

Gradually, it becomes normal. You stop thinking about it every five minutes. Then every hour. Then you catch yourself in a mirror unexpectedly and you don't notice it at all.

And then one random Tuesday, you forget you're wearing it completely. You're just... living.

That's when you realize: This was never really about the hair.

It was about the bandwidth the insecurity was taking.

It was about the mental space you'd been giving to something that didn't deserve that much of you.

It was about reclaiming energy for things that actually matter.

I can't tell you what to do.

I don't know if a hair system is your answer. Maybe it is. Maybe it isn't.

Maybe your insecurity is something else entirely. Something nobody talks about, something you've been managing alone for years.

Only you know what's taking your bandwidth.

But I can tell you this: Whatever it is, it's stealing energy from things that matter more.

From being present. From taking risks. From showing up fully.

From actually living instead of managing.

You're not alone in this.

You're not shallow for caring. You're not weak for wanting something different. You're not vain for refusing to perform acceptance you don't feel.

You're just human.

And if any of this landed, I want to hear from you. Hit reply. Tell me where you're at. Tell me what's taking your bandwidth.

I read every single message.

— Jared
Bald is NOT a Hairstyle

Come say hi on my other channels!
📬 Got questions or glue disasters to share? Email me
📹 Watch my longer form updates on YouTube
📱 Follow for even more toupee content on TikTok
💬 Know a fellow balding bro? Send them this newsletter