I’ve always struggled with my self-image, from the way I look to how people perceive me. Developing psoriasis didn’t exactly help with that internal dialogue.
I began noticing symptoms when I was around 20, back in 2020. It started with my scalp feeling itchy. As the sensation intensified, I began constantly scratching, and scab-like flakes would fall from my head and get caught in my then-long brown hair. I later learned these were psoriasis plaques.
You could see them all over my clothing, too, so much so that I stopped wearing anything dark and stuck to whites and light colors because I didn’t want the flakes to be visible. When I was out with other people, I’d even walk at the back of the group so no one would see the buildup collecting on the back of my shirt.
As time went on, my scalp was always itchy. I couldn’t stop touching it or scratching it, and it became so irritated that it would bleed at night.
I don’t remember exactly when I was officially diagnosed. But what I do remember is, when I first started experiencing symptoms, Googling whether adults could get cradle cap because I had no idea what was happening. As my symptoms got worse, I found myself showering multiple times a day to wash away the plaques, but it didn’t help. Eventually, I went to my general practitioner (GP) because it seemed to be spreading across my entire scalp. The doctor spent no more than five seconds looking at my head before telling me I had psoriasis. Sure, it was relieving to finally have an answer, but at the same time, I left with a diagnosis of an incurable autoimmune disease and very few answers about what came next. My GP told me to see a dermatologist, but that was really it.
I learned that stressful events can sometimes bring autoimmune diseases like psoriasis to the surface. As a paramedic and emergency-call taker, I spend my days helping people through incredibly stressful situations, so perhaps that was one of my triggers. Unfortunately, I’ll never know for sure.
After a while, the plaques weren’t just on my head. The psoriasis showed up on my hands, which made working incredibly painful and challenging because I was constantly washing my hands and wearing gloves while treating patients. Later it spread to my knees, elbows, and stomach too.
But my scalp was always the hardest part. No matter how I wore my hair or turned my head, I felt like I was constantly thinking about whether people could see the flakes.
That is until I decided to shave it all off in July of 2025—but I’ll get to that in a second.
Nothing I tried seemed to help me
I tried everything before deciding to buzz off all my hair. The treatment routine my dermatologist recommended was exhausting. Every night I had to wet my hair, massage peanut oil into my scalp, sleep in a shower cap, then wash it all out again in the morning. Three times a week I’d drive 30 minutes each way for narrow-band UVB light therapy that barely reached my scalp because my hair was in the way. My hair became the bane of my existence. Not only was it interfering with my treatment, but it started getting brittle from constantly being wet. Despite my efforts nothing seemed to be improving my symptoms.
When I went back to my dermatologist begging for relief, I asked about stronger treatments. He told me my psoriasis wasn’t severe enough to warrant anything more. I remember thinking, How bad does it have to get before someone helps me? Immunosuppressants, a common treatment for psoriasis, also weren’t a realistic option because of my work—you don’t want your immune system to be suppressed when you’re constantly exposed to illness.
At this point my mental health was spiraling. I stopped wanting to go out. I didn’t even want to leave the house. I felt like no one—not even me—fully understood how much this disease had taken over my life.
I was exhausted, frustrated, and out of options. I realized it was time to take matters into my own hands, which is when I started wondering what I’d look like without any hair at all.
Shaving my head brought me relief in more ways than one
I spent a little time mulling over the decision, which was made easier by Alex, my partner of 3.5 years and my biggest supporter through it all. In fact he shaved his head about a month before me so we could be bald together.
When I felt ready I told Alex to bring out his electric razor and prop up my phone so I could document the moment. The video started with him cutting off my ponytail with scissors. Then I took the razor directly down the middle of the side of my scalp—a strategic move so I couldn’t change my mind at the last second. At that point we just went for it, with Alex helping me make sure it was all even. I remember looking at myself and thinking, Wait, I actually look really cute. I like this.
I posted a video to TikTok a few evenings later because I was so excited to show people my new hairstyle, a.k.a. no hair. At the time I didn’t have a big following at all—maybe 1,000 people.
The next day I was at work taking emergency calls when I got a text from my sister around 9 a.m. saying, “You’re going viral on TikTok.”
Mackenzie Johnson
It was an overnight life change. That video now has more than 5 million views.
I was overwhelmed by the number of positive comments I received from people online. I had so many comments and messages to go through—when I started reading them, I remember crying because I was so touched. One note said something like, “I’ve never seen somebody else who has the same thing as me.”
That said I knew shaving my head was going to bring more attention to myself—both positive and negative—in the real world. You just don’t see that many bald or short-haired women. I remember when I first shaved my head, I felt people looking at me and would instantly revert to feeling self-conscious.
But at the same time, I was at a place in my life where I didn’t want to care about what people thought of me anymore. After shaving my head I was like, Wow, I am in control, and what other people think of me is not my business, and I am confident in myself.
My job is literally helping people save lives. It doesn’t matter what I look like because I know I’m a good human. If I can show up that way, then hopefully it will give other people the power to be confident in themselves, whether they’re going through the same thing or something different.
My scalp is currently in remission
Not only have I been rocking the bald-baddie look for more than a year, but my scalp is in remission.
When I first shaved off my hair, my scalp was covered in red patches. But after just one week, I could see my scalp healing—there was less irritation, fewer scales, and fewer plaques. Around that same time a family-owned company called Nopsor reached out after seeing my TikTok video. I’ve been using the brand’s deep-moisturizing pomade for about a year now, and together with shaving my head, it’s made an incredible difference. My symptoms continued to get better after I began using Nopsor. Now, when it comes to my scalp, I’m just maintaining my clear skin.
This approach is the only thing that has worked for me. I still have a few patches on my body that get a little itchy and dry, but everything feels much more controlled now.
I also know psoriasis is unpredictable. Because it’s an autoimmune disease, I could have another flare at any time. It might never come back, or it might come back worse than before.
I’m just trying to take every day as a win because I don’t know what the next might look like.
I may try growing my hair out again soon, but until then I’m having fun documenting my bald head on TikTok, especially because it gives people like me more representation.
I’ve been called “sir” or mistaken for a boy more times than I can count since shaving my head. Most of the time I can laugh about it, but I also hope my choice helps people realize that hair has no gender. I’m a confident woman who also happens to be bald.
At the end of the day, I hope I can be a safe space for people and an inspiration to accept who you are and where you’re at because that is more than good enough.