'I noticed a small patch of missing hair when I was 19. It took over two decades to deal with the cause.'

By the time I was almost 20 years old, I had lived overseas for nearly three years.

I'd gone travelling through Europe, the USA and Central America with some fun stints in places like Morocco, Romania.

It was in Venezuela while visiting my Dad that I noticed a small patch of hair seemed to be missing just above my right ear. No one said anything about it and so, I figured, it wasn't that noticeable and decided to ignore the issue.

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A few weeks later though, on meeting up with my bestie and travelling companion, the first thing she pointed out was that it was not only noticeable, it was getting bigger.

I went to the doctor in Panama and was told I had Alopecia. My hair would fall out for three months, stay out for three months and then grow back for three months and I would be done.

Easy enough, I thought.

Luckily for me, I was righteous and didn't care about my hair. I wasn't around anyone I knew from home, and I wasn't in school. I could be anyone I wanted.

The doctor was right and he was wrong.

He diagnosed my symptom effectively, but gave me an incorrect assessment on the duration and didn't even touch on cause. So, when my hair started falling out again nine months later, when I was back home in Perth, I was a bit annoyed.

But I figured it would sort itself out eventually.

Ahhh youth.

By this stage, I had taken a hit on my perception of myself, both from the lack of hair resolution but also from the unhealthy relationship I had entered into.

Three years later, I was two children in and had no hair on my entire body. I started to notice the staring, commenting and pointing of children and adults alike. And for the first time, I was bothered by it.

I felt people judging me as a parent, as a woman, and as a person based on how I looked.

But the truth was that the staring, commenting and pointing was nothing new.

I had a friend once ask how I dealt with it and I brushed her off and told her the truth, I didn't notice it. But now, years later, I was noticing it. A lot.

So I started to wonder why.

I realised the judgement I was seeing in others, was the reflection of the judgement I held for myself.

I had started doubting myself as a person, as a woman and as a mother. I judged myself in how I was showing up because I had gone so far from who I thought myself to be. I thought I was a fit, adventurous, courageous woman who could do anything. Yet more and more, I was feeling small, weak, tired and beaten down.

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I started to take my health more seriously and looked for the cause of the hair loss; energetically, emotionally and physically.

I saw specialists in gut health, skin, hormones and the immune system. I saw acupuncturists, energy healers and I even started studying naturopathy to try and figure it out myself.

I unpacked the emotional component through spiritual teachings and personal development. It wasn't just my hair anymore.

What was on the line was my identity and my well-being.

I kept getting more sensitive to foods, more out of whack hormonally and more exhausted no matter what I did. I felt like I was constantly fighting just to stay at base level.

While my sense of self evolved and the noise of the judgements subsided, the imbalance that had taken root wasn't shifting.

Then, things got worse.

In 2020, my nervous system shut down after the separation and passing of my kid's dad. My system couldn't fight anymore and I lost it all.

My hair was the least of my concerns when I couldn't stand alone, look after my kids, work or — at times — string my thoughts into words.

I spent the next two years focused on my health, more than ever before. My priority of self became stronger and my willingness to compromise myself for anyone diminished at each step along the way.

My ability to process stress was the reason given for the conditions that had stripped me bare of every part of who I thought I was.

I would find out in 2022 that I actually contracted Lyme Disease back in 2002 when my hair fell out. I had spent 20 years being misdiagnosed and misunderstood by a system hell-bent on ignoring the possibility.

I was told that it had been too long, my best bet now was to learn to live with it.

In being bald, I had become bold.

Image: supplied.

I learnt that authenticity is the sexiest, most powerful thing in the world and your beauty is not what you look like. It's your courage and your truth.

My courage and truth told me that I could cure this.

I had learnt that it is not what happens to you, but who you choose to become that counts. I learnt that if I could find a way to live with this, self-treating and diagnosing for 20 years, then I could find a way to cure it.

On my 43rd birthday this year, I got the news that I have cured my chronic Lyme Disease, three years after diagnosis.

My hair is yet to come back, but here's what I do have.

I have my truth. I have courage, I have love and now, I have my health.

And that is the most beautiful thing in the world.

This is a personal story reflecting the author's individual experience only. It is not medical advice. Please consult a qualified health professional for any health concerns or before making changes to your healthcare routine."

Feature image: Supplied.