Kate Haswell Facebook ad: “Read this if your hair stopped being your hair”

About this ad

Meta Ad Library ID

2236481803758887

Platforms

Facebook, Instagram, Audience Network, Messenger and Threads

Relaunches

0

Niche

Hair Care

How we count

Ad text

I was in the shower when I realised I had started holding my breath every time I ran my fingers through my hair. Like if I didn't breathe, maybe less would fall out. That's where six months of postpartum hair loss had taken me. I used to stand outside the bathroom door and negotiate with myself. Just dry shampoo it one more day. I'd wait until my husband was asleep so nobody would see my face after. I'd turn the water on and just stand there for a second before getting in, already dreading what was coming. And then it would happen anyway. Not a few strands, an actual clump…sitting in my palm like something that used to belong to me. And I'd do this pathetic thing where I'd press it against the shower wall so I could look at it again after. Actually measure it with my eyes. Count it almost. Then feel completely insane for doing that. Then do it again the next night. Nobody tells you it feels like grief. Everyone says "oh it's normal, it grows back" so casually, like you didn't just spend ten minutes standing in the shower staring at your own hair in your hand wondering how much longer this goes on. It is not really about the hair. It is about your body already feeling unfamiliar after everything pregnancy changed. And then this on top of it. The hair felt like the one thing you could get back. The one thing that could make you feel put together again. In control again. Like you again. And it kept falling out. It was a Tuesday night. My daughter was asleep and the house was quiet and I was sitting on the bathroom floor in a towel with my hairbrush in my hand just staring at it. The hair wrapped around the bristles. The amount of it. I didn't cry. I think I was past crying about it. But that night something shifted. I wasn't going to just wait anymore. I tried everything. Biotin. Fish oil. Castor oil every night — I smelled awful and my husband pretended not to notice. Scalp massages. Rosemary oil. Every forum post, every Reddit thread, every blog written by someone who claimed they'd cracked it. Months of this. And my hair kept falling out. At 1:17 AM one night I was on page eight of Google, eyes burning, reading the same recycled advice. Take biotin. Be patient. It'll grow back. What if I had been solving the wrong problem entirely. The hairdresser was a last resort. I booked it at 11 PM because I had run out of things to try. She was kind. She walked me through options — a trim, maybe a bob to even everything out, loose styles to take the tension off, no more tight ponytails. She said highlights might help with the confidence while I waited for it to grow back. I nodded along. I appreciated every word of it. But I knew I was walking out of there with a different hairstyle and the same problem. Or that's what I thought. And then the woman next to me said something that made my stomach go quiet. She asked her stylist if she had ever heard of a protein called FGF5 and whether anyone in the industry was talking about it yet. Her stylist hadn't heard of it. Neither had mine. Nobody in that salon knew what she was talking about. She worked in medical devices for hospitals and clinical research teams. She said researchers had spent years getting it completely wrong. Once she understood what FGF5 actually did, she couldn't look at hair loss the same way again. And then her appointment was over and she was gone. I sat there for a second. Then I opened my notes app, typed FGF5, and was thinking about it the whole drive home. I didn't fully know what I was looking for. But something about the way she said it, like she was describing something the rest of us just hadn't caught up to yet. I couldn't let it go. I put my daughter to bed and opened my laptop. By midnight I was buried in research papers, piecing it together slowly. And the first thing I found stopped me completely. Turns out there were hair microbiologists who had been studying FGF5 for years. Quietly. In journals nobody outside of clinical research ever reads. And what they had been documenting was something the mainstream conversation around hair loss had completely missed. FGF5 is the signal that tells your hair follicle to stop growing and enter the shedding phase. In a normal cycle it fires at the right time — hair grows, gets the stop message, rests, sheds, starts again. But when FGF5 gets elevated it hijacks that cycle completely. It fires the stop signal too early, too often, cutting the growth phase short before your hair has any real chance to grow. Your follicles never get to finish what they started because FGF5 keeps resetting the clock before they can. And this is the part that made me feel sick. When oestrogen crashes back down postpartum — hard and fast — it appears to send FGF5 into overdrive. The off switch gets stuck on. And it stays stuck, firing that stop signal into your follicles long after your body should have cycled back to normal. Which means every month you're not addressing FGF5 directly, it is actively stealing your hair's growth window. Not slowing it down. Stealing it. The biotin. The fish oil. The castor oil. The scalp massages. Not one of them was designed to touch FGF5. They were nourishing follicles that were being told to stop growing before they could use any of it. You cannot wait out elevated FGF5. It has to be actively interrupted. Silenced. Otherwise it just keeps firing, keeps sending your hair into shedding before it ever had a chance to grow. I sat back at 12:23 AM and stared at the ceiling. That was why nothing had worked. Things started shifting quietly after that. Less hair on the pillow in the morning. The shower drain? No longer the fistfuls that used to make my stomach drop. And then one morning about eight weeks later I was putting my hair up without thinking and caught myself in that same mirror, same light, same angle. And I didn't look away. Something was there at my temples. Not fully back. But there. Growing flat. Dense enough that I couldn't see straight through anymore. I stood there for a moment and just breathed. For the first time in a long time I felt like I was coming back. If you're experiencing this right now, I'm not going to pretend like I have all the answers. But what I found that night is the first thing in six months that actually made sense. An actual explanation for why this happens and what it actually takes to interrupt it. I'm not saying it will change everything overnight. Hair doesn't work like that and I've been lied to enough times to know better than to promise that. But if you've spent months trying everything and getting nowhere, if you've been sitting on that bathroom floor wondering why nothing is working…then you deserve to know what I found.

Where the ad sends people

trydopacare.com

Read this if your hair stopped being your hair 👆

Dopa