Alopecia update

The good news is I still have enough hair to cover my head. Silky, healthy, beautiful, thin, hair. And the bad news is that I have developed an age-related genetic pattern of hair loss, and it has continued to grow thinner, which is why I've cut my long hair into a short bob. So far, the top layer is holding onto enough hair so that I don't have a wide part. But the underneath layer on both sides of my head and in the back have experienced extreme thinning. In some places it is thin as corn silk with my healthy scalp taking center stage. Which is why last year in April 2025 I experimented with a short pixie cut. It sounded like a great idea, but it didn't work. Turns out that with short layered hair too much of my scalp was exposed. So, I spent the past year letting it grow back into a short one length bob. 
 
Not sure what I will do when it gets too thin for a bob. Head scarves, hats, fabulous earrings. Already I've begun to collect head scarves. I'm still searching to find the styles I like best that feel comfortable, bold and carefree. Alas, I want to be prepared should a day arrive when I'm getting ready to go somewhere important and my hair turns up missing. I don't want to be caught off guard the way I was a couple of years ago when I suddenly noticed that most of my eyebrows were gone. 
 
Fact is my hair has her own personality, and her own agenda. For decades I tried to control her. Now she humbles me, and I'm making peace with her, most of the time. When I get ahead of myself and worry about my hair future there is nothing better than fresh cut lavender, sage, peppermint or sweet basil to restore me. I walk to Farmers Market, take in the harvest and breathe deep fragrance all around. All the while thankful for my legs that are still strong enough to carry me. 

"The body is a sacred garment. It's your first and last garment; it is what you enter life with, and it should be treated with honor." —Martha Graham (1894—1991) Dancer, choreographer, and American modern dance creator
Copyright Terra Trevor 2015-2026
Theme:
When you write, you lay out a line of words. The line of words is a miner’s pick, a wood-carver’s gouge, a surgeon’s probe. You wield it, and it digs a path you follow. Soon you find yourself deep in new territory. Is it a dead end, or have you located the real subject? You will know tomorrow, or this time next year. —Annie Dillard


We Who Walk the Seven Ways is Terra Trevor’s memoir about seeking healing and finding belonging. After she endured a difficult loss, a circle of Native women elders embraced and guided Trevor (mixed-blood Cherokee, Lenape, Seneca, and German) through the seven cycles of life in Indigenous ways. Over three decades, these women lifted her from grief, instructed her in living, and showed her how to age from youth into beauty. 

With tender honesty, Trevor explores how every ending is always a beginning. Her reflections on the deep power of women’s friendship, losing a child, reconciling complicated roots, and finding richness in every stage of life show that being an American Indian with a complex lineage is not about being part something, but about being part of something. 

University of Nebraska Press | Barns & Noble| Bookshop & IndieBound | Amazon

“Terra Trevor’s memoir is a gentle invitation to journey with her across decades, an invitation to notice with her as she seeks healing and finds belonging. There were phrases and sentences I underlined, places where I wept, passages that will remain with me as they drew me to insights I’d previously struggled to name. I closed the final pages and knew that in reading this book, I had been the recipient of a generous and much-needed gift. While I can certainly finish a book in a day, I chose to move slowly through this one, letting each idea, each paragraph, each reflection gently spill over me, allowing the pages to alter me in some way.” —Patrice Gopo, author of Autumn Song: Essays on Absence

 "Terra Trevor’s Pushing up the Sky is a revelation of the struggles and triumphs packed into the hyphens between Korean and Native American and American. From her, we learn that adoption can best be mutual, that the adoptive parent needs acculturation in the child’s ways. With unflinching honesty and unfailing love, Trevor details the risks and heartaches of taking in, the bittersweetness of letting go, and the everlasting bonds that grow between them all. With ‘Pushing up the Sky’, the ‘literature of adoption’ comes of age as literature, worthy of an honored place in the human story." —Robert Bensen, editor of Children of the Dragonfly: Native American Voices on Child Custody and Education