‘I was about to film a movie with Glen Powell when my hair started falling out in clumps. Alopecia has made me unrecognizable as an actor.’

Greg Grunberg has built a career playing the best friend or likeable guy next door on shows like Heroes, Felicity and Alias. As it happens, Grunberg was headed to Europe to reunite with his real-life childhood best friend and frequent collaborator, director J.J. Abrams, for the new film Ghostwriter earlier this year when his thick head of hair started to fall out in chunks almost overnight. His eyelashes and brows followed — and so did a diagnosis of alopecia.

The National Alopecia Areata Foundation describes alopecia as a common autoimmune skin disease that causes hair loss on the scalp, face and other areas of the body. According to Cleveland Clinic, nearly 7 million people in the United States have the condition; 20% of cases involve children.

As Grunberg grapples with the day-to-day challenges of developing alopecia at 59 — from unexpected side effects to unwelcome comments — he’s also taken the opportunity to raise awareness about the condition and connect with others who have it. It’s second nature for the actor, who shares three adult children with his wife of 33 years, Elizabeth. He cofounded Talk About It! to raise epilepsy awareness after his oldest son’s diagnosis, and has helped raise over $6 million for charity performing with celebrity bands, including the Band From TV and its current spinoff iteration, the Action Figures.

In this interview with Yahoo’s Suzy Byrne, Grunberg — whose recent credits include roles in Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker and The Fabelmans, executive producing Charlie Hustle & the Matter of Pete Rose and appearing as a recurring guest star on the game show 25 Words or Less — shares in his own words how losing his hair has changed his life. Here’s what he’s learned from it, so far.

Even though I’m an actor, I’ve never been a vain person, believe it or not. But it’s a shock to look in the mirror while washing your face and see someone who doesn’t look like you.

That’s been my reality since alopecia arrived without warning earlier this year.

In October 2024, I had a full knee replacement surgery. Years earlier, when I was playing Matt Parkman on TV’s Heroes, I twisted my knee during a stunt. That injury led to arthritis, which kept getting worse.

While the surgery was a success, it’s what likely triggered all of this. I believe alopecia may have been dormant in my system for years, and the stress surrounding the surgery — and other things going on at the time — set it off.

Recovery from surgery was a two-and-a-half to three-month process with lots of physical therapy. It wasn’t an easy time: I was trying to heal before the Action Figures were scheduled to perform the first-ever Comic Con: The Cruise in January. Then, the Los Angeles fires started. We had a family staying with us that was seriously impacted.

Out of nowhere, my hair started falling out in clumps. I was just about to fly to Europe to shoot J.J. Abrams’s next movie with Samuel L. Jackson, Glen Powell and Jenna Ortega for a month. I was freaking out. I mean, imagine you wake up in the morning and all of your hair is gone.

I talked to J.J. — my best friend in the world — who encouraged me to get ahead of it, so I shaved my hair before filming. My eyebrows, eyelashes and everything else went next. The hair and makeup team created eyebrows for me and gave me a goatee for the movie. I actually love the way I look. J.J. was like, “Dude, you look awesome. Don’t worry about it.”

Back home, I saw an incredible doctor at UCLA who specializes in alopecia. She also has alopecia, so when she walked in the room, I said, “OK, you understand me.” I asked what was causing all this, and she literally threw up her hands and said, “We don’t know, but it’s stress-related.”

I’m healthy in every other area, knock on wood. I regularly have bloodwork done because I’ve started a medication — a JAK inhibitor — to see if it will stimulate hair regrowth. I’m not sure if it will, and I’ve learned that hair can often grow back only to fall out again. At 59, with a beautiful family and a happy marriage, I’m not trying to impress anyone with my appearance.

I’ll admit I was a bit dishonest publicly at first. When I didn’t know what was causing the hair loss and was still trying to figure it out, I posted on social media that I shaved my head for a role. But once I learned the truth, I realized it would be hypocritical not to be completely honest.

I’ve spent my adulthood encouraging honest conversations on Talk About It!, which I helped start years ago to help destigmatize epilepsy after my oldest son was diagnosed. Through my podcast, I make it my mission to help people speak openly about the challenges they’re facing — and that’s where I shared my alopecia diagnosis in May.

It’s not to say this hasn’t been a life adjustment. There are things about alopecia I never considered: When you sweat, it goes directly into your eyes because you don’t have eyebrows or eyelashes to catch it. Losing my nose hair was shocking. Nose hair acts like a built-in filter, so I don’t have that now. Also, I need much more sunscreen now because so much more skin is exposed.

But I’m getting used to some of it. No haircuts or shampoo — I’m saving a fortune. I don’t have to shave every day. I started using L’Oréal’s Faux Brow pen — recommended by my sister-in-law, who also has alopecia — to give myself eyebrows. I wear non-prescription glasses to add definition to my face.

I bought a million hats, but realized if you wear a hat or put on sunglasses, then you’re kind of saying, “I’m not owning this” instead of “Hey, this is who I am.” I’m not gonna wear a wig. I’m not gonna wear a toupee. I’m not gonna get plugs. I’m not gonna do any of that stuff. I’m just embracing it and moving forward.

So many people have reached out about loved ones with alopecia: “My 12-year-old daughter,” “My 11-year-old nephew,” “My college-aged niece” — and that puts everything in perspective. Therapy has helped too. My wife is everything, and it’s great to have a friend/brother like J.J. to talk to about anything, but I’ve never been in therapy before. It’s the best thing I’ve ever done.

That doesn’t mean there aren’t uncomfortable moments. Some people have no censor, and someone recently said, “Oh my God, look at Uncle Fester!” I’ve always told my boys, if somebody opens the door, step through it. So I looked at her and said, “Wow, that’s a sensitive comment. I have alopecia.”

Just yesterday at a restaurant, these ladies kept looking over. I don’t know if they thought I was sick or if they haven’t seen someone without eyebrows before or if my voice was familiar, but they didn’t recognize me. Before I lost my hair, everywhere I went, people would stop me — to thank me or say hi — which is so nice, but sometimes I just want to disappear. Well, guess what? Now I’ve disappeared.

Seeing photos of myself is another thing. Anyone with alopecia will get this: At a birthday party or whatever, I’ve become the guy who’s taking the pictures instead of being in them. I’m still adjusting.

I keep moving forward, though. Jokingly, I’ve called my showrunner and filmmaker friends to say, “Guess what, I’ve got a new look.” Everyone tells me I can play a villain now, and I’m like, “Why can’t the bald guy be a nice guy? What about dad roles, football coaches and burned-out lawyers?” It’s opening up a whole new area.

But I’ve learned this: The world reacts to you the way you react to yourself. If I’m smiling, talking about it and being open, that’s how everyone will accept it. And that’s what I plan to keep doing.

This interview has been edited for length and clarity.