I just whipped it off

I just whipped it off

I knew it was a safe place.
I don't think there is a safer place in the world.
It is the London Underground.
Millions of people in a rush to get somewhere, anywhere but where they are right now.

The underground hosts an eclectic mix of people. Nationalities. Races. Religions. Interests. Careers. Rich. Poor. It all goes on. In one place. Together. In silence.

Also there is a kind of protocol where you don't stare. So many people look different, odd and strange. That staring is neither of interest or socially permitted.

So I whipped off my wig in a moment of madness and strode down the stairs, the escalators and stood on the platform. Bold, bald and beautiful. Alone and confident.

I made a decision to be proud. To hold my head up high and strode with purpose through the labyrinth.

I was scared. I was nervous. I was conscious. I was alive.

As I got a little more comfortable, I stopped focussing on me and how I was feeling and decided to look around. And here is the most interesting part.

No one was looking at me.
No one was interested.
No one was staring
No one was remotely curious .

Of course there was the odd prolonged glance but even that was short and polite.

No one looked bothered.
No one cared.

I felt like shouting "Hello everyone I am bald, why are you not staring at me????"
I could not fathom that I was a non event for all these city commuters.
I was underwhelmed by the response yet overwhelmed by it.

They were more interested in the local newspaper, their phones or the announcements about the doors closing.

I did it for over 30 minutes.

It was my first public outing and I was viewed by hundreds.

I am not sure what it all meant and what it now means.

But I know I had to do it.

And today was the day.