Editor’s note (updated September 21, 2026): Nota Vakola’s first-person account was originally published in 2020. URevolution has added current medical context about chemotherapy-related hair loss and head shaving; the personal experience below remains Nota’s.
When do people shave their head during chemo?
There isn’t one right time, and there’s no requirement to shave your head because you’re having chemotherapy. Not all chemotherapy causes hair loss. When treatment-related hair loss does happen, it often starts within a few weeks of treatment beginning, although the timing and amount depend on the drugs and treatment plan. The American Cancer Society notes that some people cut their hair short or shave before it starts falling out, while others choose not to. Cancer Research UK similarly advises that not all chemotherapy drugs cause hair loss and that, when it happens, it commonly begins around two to three weeks after treatment starts.
If someone does want to shave, let them decide the timing, how short to go and who they want there. For people who choose a close shave, MD Anderson Cancer Center advises using an electric razor to reduce the risk of cuts. If the scalp is sore, irritated or there are treatment-specific concerns about skin, bleeding or infection, ask the cancer care team before shaving.
Shaving my mom’s head during chemo
Modern society has this strange rule.
Women, in particular, are not supposed to have any hair whatsoever, except on their head.
Now, I’m not going to go into a rant about how the whole thing is – pardon my language – bull-crap. Okay. Maybe just a little rant.
Body hair removal is painful, time-consuming and, quite frankly, a very boring exercise. And the very fact we have been so conditioned to perceive it as normal should be questioned. But that’s not why we are here today.
Though strides have been made in recent years, and women sport all kinds of hair lengths and styles, one fact remains.
The first thing that comes to mind when someone sees a bald woman is… say it with me now:
C A N C E R! gasps
Growing up, I was told “don’t concern yourself with hair”
When I was growing up, my mother was never the type to get her hair done every week. Nor did she get upset if the hairdresser chopped off more length than she wanted. In fact, not counting a casual remark or two, we rarely spoke of our hair. Except maybe to complain about how much of it we both had, and what a hassle it was.
That trend continued on into my adulthood. We have this saying in Greek, which roughly translates to “Don’t concern yourself with hair.” Here, “hair” is used to signify something unimportant; something that you should not waste your time on.
I have never been a girly girl, and so the hair on my head has never been a big deal in my life. I always thought, at least in part, I had gotten this perspective from my mom. And then she got cancer.
Besides our world getting turned upside down, another shocking revelation came to light: my mother DOES actually care about hair. A LOT!
“Will my hair fall out?”
Now, let me tell you, as her daughter, my mom losing her hair due to her cancer treatment was the last thing on my mind. Precisely because in our family, we had never been obsessed with how our hair looked. But also because there are a lot of scarier chemo-related side effects to worry about.
Also, you know, CANCER, man.
But nonetheless, “Will my hair fall out?” was one of the first questions she asked the doctor. And the first time she got teary was when she saw bald women walking through the oncology ward that first day. I was so confused!
Throughout my mother’s breast cancer diagnosis and current chemo treatment, I have done my best to think before I speak. I want to be respectful and considerate, and not say anything that will upset her. Because this is her battle, and the hard time I might be having is nothing compared to hers. But the first time she got upset about her hair, it seemed so out of character that I just stared at her and laughed uncomfortably.
“It’s just hair, mom,” I said apprehensively, actually thinking she must be joking.
URevolution context: Hair regrowth after chemotherapy does not follow a fixed timetable. The National Cancer Institute says hair often starts growing back after chemotherapy ends, while the American Cancer Society notes that regrowth rates differ and that color or texture can temporarily change.
“Giving my mom a chemo haircut was the hardest moment of this journey, and quite possibly my life.”
The day I gave my mom a chemo haircut
And then the fateful day came. The day I would give my mom a chemo haircut. The day I would shave her head.
I had been waiting for her to provide me the call to action. When she did, I responded. I sat mom down on a chair facing the window. Away from any mirrors. She didn’t need to see the process. Nor did she want to see her chemo haircut.
I picked up the hair clippers, turned them on, and tenderly removed all of my mom’s hair.
Most of her hair had already fallen out due to chemo, but some strands remained tangled in the hair she had left. She hadn’t had the emotional strength to brush it out until it had gotten too uncomfortable.
My mom sat there in silence until all her hair was gone. Then, when it was all done, I held my mother as she sobbed into my arms. Her chemo haircut tore at my insides.
The moment our relationship shifted
In my 27 years of life, this was maybe the third time I had ever seen my mom cry. And it was the first time that I was the one comforting her. Giving my mom a chemo haircut was the hardest moment of this journey, and quite possibly my life.
It wasn’t when I heard about her cancer, or when we learned that it was aggressive. Not when I saw her space out while the doctor spat out cancer lingo and treatment plans, or when I saw her in the chemo chair for the first time. It was that one moment, with my mom leaning on me, when I realized that I would no longer be the “kid.” I had to mother my mother now.
The day I gave my mom a chemo haircut was a threshold in our relationship.
We both decided that we are in this together. We have an open line of communication where she helps me understand how she is feeling, and I offer whatever comforting words I can. Or I just crack jokes. Gallows humor is part of my life now, I’ve gone to the dark side, y’all.
I stand next to my mother and stare at the long road ahead. Many obstacles block our way, most of them we cannot even see yet. Some parts are sunny, others are gloomy, and the end of the road is not readily visible. But when I turn to look at my mom, she is walking right there beside me. Never missing a beat and keeping up with me, even though her side of the road is uphill, while mine lies flat.
If you’re helping someone shave their head during chemo
Start with what the person actually wants. A shorter cut may feel right; a close shave may not. Some people want a mirror, some would rather not watch, and some never shave at all. Hair can carry identity, privacy and a sense of control, so “it’s just hair” may land very differently for the person losing it.
Use clean equipment and be gentle with a sensitive scalp. If a close shave is wanted, an electric razor is the safer choice recommended by MD Anderson and the National Cancer Institute. Treatment-specific questions, including concerns about irritated skin, bleeding or infection, belong with the person’s cancer care team.
Further reading
For more first-person family experience, read My mom has breast cancer. If you’re worried about saying the wrong thing, URevolution also has a practical guide on how to talk to someone with cancer.
Sources for the medical context
American Cancer Society: Hair Loss (Alopecia)
Cancer Research UK: About hair loss and thinning due to cancer treatment
MD Anderson Cancer Center: Chemotherapy and Hair Loss
National Cancer Institute: Hair Loss and Cancer Treatment
