<div> I’m the mom of a 13-year-old boy who has been living with Alopecia Areata since he was small. I’m raising funds because my son is hurting in a way no child should have to.
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<div>When he was younger, he didn’t fully understand why his hair was falling out. He would look at me with these confused eyes and ask, “Mom, when is it coming back?” I didn’t know how to answer. I still don’t.
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<div>As he’s grown older, the world has not been kind.
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<div>He has no hair on his head, no eyebrows, no eyelashes. Kids stare at him like he’s something strange. They whisper and laugh. Some have asked if he’s “contagious.” Some have compared him to things that I can’t even repeat here, because it hurts too deeply to write them.
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<div>He used to be such a bright, talkative kid. The kind who laughed loudly, without caring who heard. Now, he barely talks. He keeps his hood up at school. He walks with his head down. He tries to make himself smaller, like if he takes up less space, maybe the world will stop noticing him.
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<div>He won’t look at mirrors anymore.
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<div>One time, I caught him wiping his tears silently, thinking I couldn’t hear. And when I asked him what was wrong, he just said:
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<div>“I don’t want to look like this anymore.”
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<div>There is no pain in this world like hearing your child say that.
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<div>He has his first homecoming soon. A moment most kids are excited for. But he refuses to go. He said he doesn’t want to be the joke. He said he doesn’t want everyone staring at him. He said he’d rather stay in his room where no one can look at him.
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<div>I wished I could take his pain and carry it myself.
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<div>There are treatments that could help him. There are doctors and medications that could give him a chance at growing hair again. But they are expensive. And I am struggling to make it month to month. I’m doing everything I can just to keep us above water. I hate that money is the thing standing between my child and being himself again.
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<div>I’m not asking for anything more than a chance for my son to feel like a kid again.
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<div>To smile without being afraid.
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<div>To walk into a room without feeling ashamed.
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<div>To look in the mirror and not break.
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<div>If you can help, even with a few dollars, it would mean more than I could put into words.
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<div>If you can’t donate, even sharing his story is a gift.
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<div>Thank you for reading this.
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<div>Thank you for seeing my son.
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<div>Thank you for caring.
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Gregory Perrett

Maya Cardoso

Dimitris Monanteras

Valentina Brum

My Son Smile Again by fighting alopecia

Still $4,613 to go. Help us build momentum.