I'm standing near the shower and don't want to go in.
I'm not tired and I'm not in a hurry, I just don't count how much hair I'll lose this time. This fear has been my constant companion since three weeks ago when I soaped up, rinsed, and saw handfuls of dirty blonde strands swirling down the drain. These weren't the usual 100-150 strands that everyone throws out every day; they were thick lumps of something I never thought I could lose.
I gently comb out the conditioner and apply more. And one more thing. I feel fragile, I'm afraid to tear my hair out. Even putting your head on the pillow feels like a risk. “This can’t be happening,” I scream, my hands shaking as I feel the unprecedented thinness of my tail. My mind searches for answers: is it creatine? Estrogen cream? Fashionable hair vitamins from Erehon Am I choking on religious feelings?
It turns out I'm not alone. More than 85% of men and 33% of women suffer from hair loss. during their lifetime, but I never thought that I would be one of them. As a result of aging, stress, and increased levels of GLP-1 (also known as Ozempic), hair loss has never been more common. “Over the past few years, I've seen more clients suffering from hair loss and thinning hair,” says Liz Jung, a colorist in Los Angeles. “It used to come up occasionally, but now it's part of almost every consultation. I've seen confident, glowing women start to hide under their hats because they don't feel like themselves anymore.” Yes, it was me.
My panic started with ChatGPT, where I diagnosed myself with everything from hormonal imbalances and thyroid problems to iron deficiency. I then spent hours scrolling through Instagram, studying posts from hair-obsessed influencers like @hairlossgirlboss, @Sofiahairhealth And @AbbeyYung. I increased my biotin, Amazon-Primed pumpkin seed supplements and surgically applied them. Strawberry Bond recovery treatment three times a week. When handfuls of hair didn't disappear, I raced around Los Angeles looking for someone, anyone, who could tell me why this was happening and how to stop it.
I saw three doctors in five days. Each of them came highly recommended, but their recipes couldn't be more different. The first one prescribed an oral pharmaceutical mixture of minoxidil, the gold standard for hair growth, which I would need to take for the rest of my life. The second championed three sessions of the non-invasive treatment, which uses a handheld device that sends ultrasound waves and air pressure to stimulate dormant follicles. A third opted to use the big guns: injections of PRP (platelet-rich plasma) combined with exosomes—tiny bubbles derived from stem cells that deliver growth factors directly to the roots, essentially telling them to wake up and grow. Desperate for a solution, I was drawn to the aggressive approach, but I chose a third doctor for a more compelling reason. He was the only one who needed my blood work in the first place.
The chosen one, Dr. Jonathan Shalom, a board-certified Beverly Hills physician and hair transplant surgeon also known as Dr. Hair 90210, had his hands full as he hid the diagnosis until I found myself in his chair with his trichoscope in hand—think of a high-powered magnifying glass for your scalp. Unlike genetic or hormonal loss, I had a textbook case of telogen effluvium or stress relief. Sigh.
“Good news,” Shalom said after finishing the examination. “Your hair isn't dying, it's just sleeping. We can wake it up, but we need to be aggressive.” Obviously, telogen effluvium occurs when the body undergoes an emotional, physical or hormonal shock and more hair is released during the resting phase than usual. What I didn't realize was that my hair was falling out not because of what happened yesterday, but because of what happened three months ago (a very stressful time in my life) – so the huge loss took me by surprise. This can last anywhere from three to six months, but the upside is that telogen effluvium can be reversed.
“Just know that reversing hair loss is a long game,” Shalom said. “We’re talking at least six months.” Oh, hell no was my internal reaction. After many stressful events, I couldn't handle another handful of hair. If I could speed up this process with modern medications, I'd be in the game.
Since my hair was stuck in the resting phase, my treatment was aimed at restoring the scalp environment and encouraging the follicles to grow again. I sat back in the examination chair while Shalom separated my hair into sections and treated the area with an antiseptic liquid. The first step was to inject my scalp (many times) with PRP, created from my own blood, which contains growth factors that the body uses to heal. Shalom boasts of its dual-chamber PRP system, which he says produces a purer, higher-concentration product. The scalp was bleeding a little, but thanks to several injections of lidocaine, the injections were relatively painless. But honestly, the temple area can be a little spicy.
I then stamped the scalp from the hairline to the crown with a medical-grade microneedling device, creating microchannels (or mini-tears) to stimulate collagen and blood flow while increasing absorption of the main ingredient: proprietary exosomes. Shalom rubbed the liquid contained in a small bottle into my scalp with the tips of his gloved fingers. After completing the treatment, my hair looked damp, had a faint blood red tint and was a little sticky, but the baseball cap couldn't hide it. Aftercare instructions were simple: don't shower for 24 hours and use the ketoconazole shampoo I was already using three times a week to prevent further thinning. “PRP and exosomes are one of the most advanced regenerative combinations we currently have for hair restoration,” Shalom said. “It is minimally invasive, bio-natural and designed to promote optimal scalp function.”
But exosomes have their caveats. They are not FDA approved for the treatment of hair loss.and research consists primarily of small studies involving only a few patients. The problem is not security, but uncertainty. Experts don't fully understand what's in exosomes and what causes their effects. Since the treatment costs more than $1,500 per session (that's what I paid), some critics call it an expensive gamble. However, despite the desperation and fear, taking action outweighed the risk. I was ready to try anything.
So, did it work? Nothing in hair restoration happens overnight, so all I had to do was wait. After a week, the loss slowed down by half. After two weeks, my hair was stronger—and so was I. For the first time in months, I wasn't afraid to pull my hair back or run my fingers through it without counting what had fallen out. During my observation a month later, Shalom pointed to the screen of his trichoscope. Baby hair. Many of them grow all over my scalp. The hair started to come back. And along with this, the confidence that I thought I had lost.
