I started pulling out my hair at age 8. Telling my husband I wore a wig to hide bald spots was terrifying, but I shouldn't have worried.

• At 8 years old I began pulling out my own hair, starting with my eyebrows.
• By the time I met my now husband, I was wearing a wig to hide bald spots.

When I met my husband, Chris, I was already a hair loss veteran.

At 8 years old, I began pulling out my eyebrows. I progressed to the head on my hair a few years later, creating mango-sized bald spots. My urge to pluck is a symptom of trichotillomania, a condition that involves compulsively pulling out or breaking your hair. It's classified under obsessive-compulsive and related disorders in The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders.

My plucking eventually became so severe that I wore wigs to conceal the damage.

Sharing my hair loss with Chris was one of the most terrifying moments of my life. My hands shook as I told him my secret, one only a handful of people knew. I worried that once he found out I wore a wig, he wouldn't find me attractive, and part of me feared he would leave me.

Instead, he looked me in the eye and listened. He held space for me when I showed him my bald spots. Most importantly, he asked how he could be supportive of me and my hair loss. It was the first time a partner had ever posed this question.

While Chris is not the first partner I shared my hair loss with, he is by far the most supportive.

He follows my lead on when and how to talk about my hair loss

Trusting a partner enough to share something so personal doesn't happen overnight. I waited a month to tell Chris my secret.

Although I'm sure he suspected something, he never forced the truth out of me.

This gave me the time and space to mentally prepare for the conversation. Rather than catching me off guard, Chris took cues from me and was respectful of my boundaries.

Even now, Chris always waits for me to bring up my hair loss; he resists pointing out new bald spots, aware of how that might increase my shame.

He is conscientious about social situations where I might feel uncomfortable

Certain activities create stress for those of us with hair loss. Chris once took me to a dance with his friends, where the women got their hair done. I ended up accompanying his friends to the salon but styling my wig at home.

It was important for me to feel like I was part of this social experience, even if I couldn't get my own hair done by a stylist.

Chris proactively asked questions about how to make the experience more comfortable, allowing me to feel safe and in control of the situation. He talked with his friends ahead of time, sparing me the embarrassment of having to explain it myself.

He didn't make assumptions about my relationship with my hair loss

Past partners made comments like "It's just hair!" or "Your hair loss doesn't matter to me," which I'm sure they meant as reassuring. But I felt those remarks minimized my experience.

Having lived with trichotillomania for over two decades, this is an important part of my identity, one I don't want to be dismissed.

Some partners avoided talking about my hair loss altogether, leading me to believe they were ashamed of me.

Instead of making assumptions, Chris asked questions to gain clarity on how my hair loss affected me. He centered communication about my hair loss on my individual needs and boundaries.

We've been together now for six years. My trichotillomania remains a part of our everyday life, and he's still learning ways to be more supportive. I believe my hair loss has strengthened our relationship; it has challenged us to communicate better, treat each other with more compassion, and always listen to each other's needs.