Becoming Me Again: My Journey Through Empty Nest Life, Hair Loss, Wigs, Makeup, and the Joy of Accessories

Becoming Me Again: My Journey Through Empty Nest Life, Hair Loss, Wigs, Makeup, and the Joy of Accessories

When my house finally fell quiet — really quiet — I realized I had entered a new chapter of life: single and officially an empty nester. No kids bustling through the door, no extra shoes in the entryway, no dinners to plan around schedules that weren’t mine. It was liberating and unsettling all at once.

I had space — not just in my home — but in my identity. And I had to figure out what to fill it with.

Was I still a mother? Of course.
But who was I besides that?

This is the story of how I rebuilt that answer.

The Hair Loss I Didn’t Expect

I didn’t plan for hair loss. I didn’t see it coming. It wasn’t graceful. It wasn’t subtle. It chipped away at my confidence, strand by strand.

I went through denial first:

• It’s just seasonal shedding

• It’s stress

• It’s hormones

• It’s probably the moon’s gravitational pull?

But eventually I had to face it:
My hair was quitting its job without notice.

But the day I accepted it — truly accepted it — everything began to shift.

The Wig That Changed Everything

I bought one wig — one. I told myself it was

temporary, experimental, just a little solution.

Then the obsession began.

Suddenly:

• I had different looks for different moods

• Saying things like “I’m wearing Veronica today”

• I could switch from elegant to playful to glam instantly

• I rediscovered fun in self-presentation

• I wasn’t hiding — I was exploring

But listen — wigs are magical.
One day I’m a sassy brunette.
The next? Bombshell blonde.
Then? Fiery redhead with main character energy.

And here’s the twist:
Hair loss didn’t take something from me — it pushed me to reinvent myself.

Learning Makeup — As a Fully Grown Adult

I started watching makeup tutorials, thinking:
“How hard can it be?”

Turns out: moderately hard.

I have now:

• Blended my eyeshadow into accidental raccoon mode

• Drawn eyebrows that looked like two surprised hyenas

• Put on foundation three shades wrong and looked like a buttered dinner roll

• Glued my eyelid to itself with false lash adhesive

But eventually… I improved!
I now own brushes, palettes, primers…
and I actually know what they’re for

Makeup stopped being something I used to wear for occasions —

it became part of my artistic expression. A ritual. A moment I give to myself each day.

I fell in love with seeing my reflection transform — not into someone younger — but into someone alive, expressive, intentional.

Purses: My Love Language

Some people collect stamps. Some collect souvenirs.
I collect… purses.

Crossbody bags for shopping days.
Structured leather for confidence.
Tiny clutches for evenings.
Big chic totes for when I need to carry half my life.

Each purse feels like an extension of the woman I’m becoming — colorful, capable, stylish, fun.

Accessories: Because Why Not?

Earrings. Sunglasses. Bracelets.

Basically if it sparkles or dangles, I’ll try it.

I started experimenting with all the things I had never fully embraced before.

At this point I could walk out the door every day in a different wig, new lipstick, and a fresh purse.

Not to impress anyone.
Not to look younger.
But to enjoy being a woman again — especially for myself.

Being a Single Empty Nester… and Honestly? Thriving

Once upon a time, I thought being single and alone in a quiet house might be depressing.

Turns out — it’s fabulous

I get to be as extra as I want without a single eye roll.

I’m not trying to look 20.
I’m not trying to impress anyone.
I’m enjoying the absolute joy of dressing up — FOR ME.