“I live with trichotillomania, and this project is a deeply personal exploration of the condition. Through it, I hope to raise awareness, challenge misconceptions, and foster a sense of solidarity among those who are affected” – Chloe Khoury
Trichotillomania (TTM) is an underdiagnosed condition affecting a significant number of people worldwide. Despite its prevalence, it remains widely misunderstood and under-researched, often leaving individuals feeling isolated and stigmatized.
Unrooted – A Photo Documentary on Trichotillomania delves into themes of identity, unrootedness, and the emotional turbulence of the condition. Through conceptual and abstract photography, it seeks to visually convey the experience of living with TTM. Hair-pulling, more than a compulsive behavior, reflects deeper struggles with anxiety, uncertainty, and control. Hair, a symbol of identity and history, becomes both a source of relief and distress for those with TTM.
The project aims to immerse viewers in the psychological and emotional realities of the condition, while also urging the medical and psychological communities to expand their understanding of its root causes. Ultimately, it seeks to shift the conversation from stigma to empathy, by raising awareness and fostering dialogue.
The final outcome will be a photo book combining images with written reflections and textual elements integrated into the photographs. An exhibition in Lebanon is also planned to create a space for conversation, understanding, and community engagement.
Strands of hair obscure the photographer’s face, symbolizing the intimate and often unseen reality of living with trichotillomania. Turin, Italy, July 2022.
Hair roots. Beirut, Lebanon, 30 March 2025.
“Uprooted: Like trees stripped of their roots, trichotillomania pulls away at the very threads that anchor me. Each strand lost is a silent battle between control and surrender—between staying grounded and being unrooted.”
Thumbprint on a photographer’s childhood photo. Beirut, Lebanon, in March 2025.
“A childhood frozen in time, imprinted with traces of self—DNA, memory, and the silent weight of trichotillomania. What is left of me, and what have I taken away?”
Photographer’s self-portrait. Beirut, Lebanon, 11 January 2025.
“You will research it. You’ll type ‘I rip my hair’ into the internet and find a myriad of articles with Trichotillomania highlighted in bold. You’ll realize: you’re not crazy. You’re not alone. You’re not an outcast. You’re not a freak. Approximately 1 in 50 people experience trichotillomania in their lifetime.”
Self-portrait of the photographer lying in bed, in Beirut, Lebanon, in July 2024.
“Trichotillomania is a child trauma linked to the feeling of guilt.”
Hair burning in an ashtray photographed in Beirut, Lebanon, on 30 March 2025.
“I'm unsure where I live or where I truly belong. There’s no steady roof over my head, just borrowed rooms, here and there. The only thing I have control over is tearing out my own hair. It soothes me, pulling me into a meditative state. But when the moment passes, I'm left staring at the strands scattered around me. So I burn them. To erase the evidence. Or maybe as an act of defiance. I’m not sure.” – Samar, 37 years old, living with trichotillomania since she was 17.
“Hanging by a Thread: Fragile, unraveling, yet still holding on. A quiet tension between presence and disappearance.” Beirut, Lebanon, on 17 February, 2025
“Each hair carries a story—a blueprint of who we are. In its DNA lies ancestry, memory, and the silent traces of what has been lost, pulled away by the relentless grip of trichotillomania.” Beirut, Lebanon, 30 March 2025
Close-up of broken glass overlaid with text messages: ‘Hair is death.’ “Hair pulling has long been a gesture of mourning—a display of grief, a marker of loss. In some traditions, mourners would tear their hair and cover the bodies of the deceased with it.” Beirut, Lebanon, in February 2025
Self-portrait of the photographer, her face blurred in motion. Beirut, Lebanon, 5 March 2025.
“My hair has power over me, and I find myself trying to control it at times. It's something that can't be tamed. It represents both freedom and subjection, which I just have to accept. It's just part of my identity. It's part of who I am.”
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Chloe Khoury is a Lebanese filmmaker and photographer with a background in communications. She began working on this project in 2022, deepening her understanding of her personal experience with trichotillomania. This new phase of her project explores its link to uncertainty, using strands of hair as symbolic traces, like DNA left on Lebanese soil.
World Press Photo has partnered with the Samir Kassir Foundation to offer a free masterclass program for photojournalists based in Lebanon.
The masterclass’s objective is to develop and guide photographers with 4-8 years of experience in their practice, placing special emphasis on building skills for long and sustainable careers in photojournalism, documentary photography, and beyond. Moreover, this course is designed to help photographers based in Lebanon reach the international community, providing guidance on diverse topics such as safety, research, photo ethics, writing, legal requirements, pitching, career development, and avenues for publishing.
Credit: Chloe Khoury
See more work by Samir Kassir Foundation Masterclass participants here
