I've told versions of this story elsewhere, but I'll share here too.
My grandfather is bald. From an incredibly young age I was told that it would be my fate too and that gave me a ton of anxiety, especially as I got older. It was something I always dreaded. Every hair that would come out in the shower, or be on the pillow was met with some degree of panic.
As I got into into my late twenties, reality started to set in. By the time I was about 30 or so, I really couldn't even lie to myself about it anymore. Shortly thereafter I conceded and shaved my head for the first time. It was one of the most liberating tings I've ever done. The second those clippers turned off, I was free. Free from the anxiety, free from worrying if other people noticed, free from thinking about it at all. That was a couple years ago now, and I wish I'd just embraced it sooner.
At this point, even if they "cured" it, I wouldn't stop shaving my head. Bald suits me and accepting myself and the hand I was dealt has made me a much more happy and confident guy.