Sometime in late November 2018, the time of my half-yearly haircut, I decided to change the plan a bit, shave my head instead and donate the hair for cancer patients. Like any good girl, I expressed my interest to my mother first and I did expect some resistance but her questions came to me as a shock. This is how our conversation went by:
"Ma, I want to donate my hair for cancer."
"What does that mean? Are you gonna cut it too short? How short is that gonna be? Wait, wait let’s discuss this."
My mother’s definition of decisions like most Indian parents is to have their way with their children.
"No Ma, nothing much to discuss. No, it’s not gonna be short. I am gonna shave it all."
A reply came like thunder, "Whaaaaat?" followed by exasperation as if I had suggested something frightful. Then came a big loud command
“NO RUBY!”
"Ma, I have been thinking about this for years and I will do it."
"When will it grow back? Will it grow back before you get married?"
"What? What is this have to do with marriage? I am not even seeing anyone yet. You should be happy with my decision but all you can think about is marriage! That’s it, I can’t have this conversation anymore."
Five days post this conversation, on 1st Dec 2018, I sent a picture of my bald head to my mother. She was neither happy nor sad about my decision. She just lived with my decision with a consolation that my hair will grow back soon again. In addition to that, my bald head reminded her of my infancy and she relived those memories, embracing me in her arms.
Unfortunately, all of this unspoken joy was stolen from her by her fear of embarrassment. She constantly found the need to justify my baldness as an act of kindness while introducing me to others and sometimes urging me to cover it up. I suddenly felt like she rejected me for who I am in front of society and wanted me to be the society’s expectation of women. A week later, it was my youngest brother’s birthday and all of my mother’s embarrassment, shame, and conflicting expressions came to life amongst the arrived guests.
Most of the guests were family and long-time friends, one among them, my father. My father and I share a peculiar relationship as we grew apart due to my parents’ separation. Hence, seeing him or having him visiting is an occasion in itself. With whatever little I know about my father, I have learned that he is a master in handling his emotions. When he witnessed my shiny head which now revealed dents and scars, the conversation went like this:
Smiling and with joyous chuckles, he said "Ohh Chinna, look at you… What’s up with this new look?"
“Hmm, nothing much. Just thought of growing it out fresh.”
“Don’t do it too often. That will diminish hair growth. This one time is enough! Come on, let’s take some pictures together.”
After the pictures, he blasted my baldness with kisses, and I escaped the love before my mom caught me drowning in it. Obviously, he is not my mother’s favorite and she does not like him swooping in once in a while and scooping all the love, without being a father in need. This is how she puts it too. As I cruised through the party, everyone questioned me about my baldness in curiosity and joyful support of my choice. Unfortunately, this did not seem to lessen my mother’s embarrassment over my choices and she disliked my humorously engaging in a conversation regarding my baldness. I blindly proceeded to rebel against my mother’s emotions and expectations of an ideal daughter as pictured by the society of 21st century India - not very liberal in my experience yet.
That evening one of my dear cousins, who is also a mother of a beautiful eight year old daughter, sought me for a private conversation. This request arrived at me as a surprise and concern as it’s very unlikely for her to request a private conversation unless either one of us is emotionally troubled.
I was in my room as she peeped in and asked "Are you busy?" in a way of asking if she could come in.
With a smile, I said, "Of course not!’ Please come in! So are you having fun? Rosey is growing so rapidly!"
As we continued to chat, she looked at me with tears in her eyes and with a shaky voice she said, "It’s so hard to be a mother. How do I know I am being a good one? Kumar is in the army sent off to different locations and I have to do it all alone."
I just hugged her as I said, "If your daughter loves you still, you are the best mother she can have."
There was no stopping the tears. It seemed like they were long due. Vidya continued with her shaky voice, "Kumar and other family members are suggesting having another child. I don’t feel ready for it! There is so much that Rosey still needs and with another child, I am afraid I won’t be able to do justice to anybody."
At this moment, I was no adviser. I was simply a confidant for a woman’s heart. I realized that as women, we are taught to be polite and pleasing. So intense is the teaching that we grow up sacrificing our own voices sometimes, without realizing they eventually reflect society’s demands and eternal expectations. Vidya made me look at my mother’s emotions from a fresh perspective and made me realize that she too is the victim of society’s demands and expectations. My only polite advice to Vidya that evening was to raise her daughter with a fearless heart and an independent mind. Although Vidya was supportive of my baldness, I was apprehensive that she would have the same fears as my mother’s if adult Rosey followed in my footsteps.
The party guests constituted only a fraction of attention my bald head received. Journey ahead with me and you will see how.
My first bald day at work was on 3rd December 2018. Yes, everyone was surprised and proud at the same time. Honestly, I felt more at home with my baldness and my choice at work than at home. All my male colleagues congratulated me and decided to accompany me by relieving themselves of their hair, to attain liberation as they called it. My female colleagues couldn’t bear the thought of doing the same to themselves, although found courage in my decision. I understood their point of view, but I couldn’t stop but ask why we women give so much importance to beauty standards? I do too. Who really has set them? Why are we in so much pressure to impress the opposite sex and the same sex in this day and age? I understand this was a norm when Jane Austen was writing 'Pride and Prejudice' women were bred to wed. There is no rule book or commandment, so what is still holding us back in making independent choices even beyond beauty? I pushed away all my questions like any polite woman would and went on with my day.
AutumnGrey is an organization run by a strong female CEO. She too was proudly spell-bound and looked at me with awe. I am going to express our conversation here to the best of my recollection.
She said, "Oh my God, this must have been such a difficult and courageous decision. What did your mom say? What does your boyfriend think of it?"
I politely replied, "They all warmly supported me."
She smiled with intrigue and inspiration, as she continued with curious questions about how and when I gave birth to this decision, where did I donate the hair and so on and so forth. Then she requested the teams to write a story about me as an inspiration for our social media handles.
Eventually, I became a muse for an ad we pitched for a brand. I had never imagined that shaving my hair for donation would change the way people looked at me and thought about me. I know this because some of my colleagues expressed their opinion of me before and after I did it. It was honest and enlightening. I repeatedly caught myself telling them that it wasn’t such a big deal and that anybody could have done it. In fact, many women shaved their heads not just for donation but as a lifestyle. Deep down, I knew it was a bigger deal for an Indian community because in some cultures shaving a woman’s head meant that she is widowed and in some others, it is seen as a religious/devotional offering. Irrespective of gender as a community, we are conditioned to view baldness (naturally or deliberate) as ghastly. In my heart, shaving my head was more than a donation. It was to change the way we look at women’s choices, especially women themselves.
I decided to make an announcement on social media about my new look, as I started receiving concerning and curious queries in DMs and WhatsApp messages. Hence, I wrote a piece alongside my before and after picture (same as the cover of this blog).
It's high time I thought, pulled up the courage from my gut and stepped into THE CHANGE. The change that would scare some, filled me with pride and overwhelming joy.
I SHAVED MY HAIR off MY HEAD! Yes, you read it right. Before I get into whys and hows, there are few things for you to note about my hair if you haven’t seen it.
1. My hair was the only part of me that experienced freedom. Always out of my control!
2. It reached up to my navel (length), the ends colored turquoise, sometimes wavy and sometimes curly
3. We loved each other and men loved it too ;)
Now that you have been introduced to my hair, it’s time to experience the journey of freedom.
Hair, especially on a women’s head is perceived to be her identity, her pride, and even her dignity across culture. Many women of the 21st century suffer from ‘standard of beauty’addiction, constructed by society and culture over the years. What we forget as women are to constantly challenge the questions and norms. Not because we are rebels but because as women we are gifted in providing the best to the world (micro & macro).
Experiences from love to hate, from pride to shame, from families to friends; each one of us has a story to tell, just like each strain of our hair. The labels float from curly to straight, from wavy to messy, from short to long but none mattered, we love our hair! We are born caregivers, we can show love by sharing our hair with women and children who are now fighting cancer. I SHAVED MY HAIR off MY HEAD! and the mirror is proud of me… #HairDonated #ForCancer
My baldness now helps me experience my freedom, just as my hair once did.
P.S this is my story built by my choice, giving can be anything (time, love, hair) for anyone in need. Build your story in your style!
Over the weeks, my hair starting sprouting out of my scalp but for a long time, it did not come in the way of the most pleasurable moments, notably the head massage. It felt like paradise when my head was rubbed, gently ponded, and pressed. Everyone started offering me a free massage. Apparently, my “Velcro” head was pleasing to the fingers that touched them, making me a sort of calming monk. Running, cooking, bathing, dressing, almost every daily activity became incredibly efficient as my long locks did not come in the way, clog my drain or need grooming. My pillows did not miss stray hair but the velcro head started to stick to them, making me giggle.
Don’t be mistaken. I did miss my long hair. I would absently run my fingers behind my ears as if placing my hair there and I missed how my hair danced with me at parties but the parties did not seem to miss my long hair. With every stage of my hair growth, I received compliments from strangers. It became a conversation starter. The majority of compliments I received were from women at parties, at pubs, on shopping streets and even in public restrooms. They had a specific theme to them and the conversations usually went like this:
Beautiful women would say to me as our eyes met, “Your hairstyle looks amazing. It looks badass.”
With an everlasting smile and pride, I would reply, “Aww, Thank you! I didn’t cut it this way. I just let it grow after I shaved my head a few months ago.”
“I wish I could do that. I am not sure it will suit me” with a small frown and some doubt.
“I think it will suit you. You will carry it off really well. I can tell” with a confident and supportive smile as we nodded at each other and parted ways.
On one occasion, a woman expressed her fear of driving men away if she cut her hair short. All the women I know in my life love their men for who they are and how they treat them., very little are they concerned with a beauty standard that a man had to follow. There are exceptions of course. In a loving world, why do we as women or men set rules for ourselves that cultivate and feed our own fears, doubt, and downfall?
One day while in conversation with my mother, we spoke about (surprise, surprise) my love life. She expressed to me that it won’t make a good impression of me with a boyish hair-do to any men, therefore, I shall be condemned. So, she advised with disappointment that I need to wait till my hair grows out, although I am aging swiftly. I was very saddened by this approach to a woman’s life and declared that I don’t need a man who condemns me for who I am! He shall accept me with all my aberrations like I would his. Also, I reminded her that I was in my 20s and I would rather be a spinster over being unhappy or with a wrong man.
During my journey from bald to bob, I learned that women and men have developed a tendency to sabotage their ideas, dreams, desires, and independence by following some unwritten rule. This whole time no man expressed my choice as a downfall of beauty and the thought of what would society think? mostly concerned women. Just for your curiosity, I would like to let you know that neither my dating life nor my beauty routine was affected by my bold choices. The shaved head acted as a metaphor to many other bold yet kind things we can do that will change the world for good. We need to believe in our dreams of truth. We must break the cycle of pleasing others while suppressing and doubting ourselves. It’s not about shaving your head. Those who do not want to do it, should not! But whatever decisions we make should solely resonate with who we are and what our voices stand for!
In twelve months, the course of hair transitioned from bald to bob without bearing the salon expenses (haha!). Every look brought out a personality from within me. A few noteworthy styles were “Velcro,” anti-gravity, army trim, sidelocks heavy, boyish curls, pin-up curls, and the short bob. I got to experience it all without the expense of a stylist. But the most enriching experience of them all? I got to go on a whole new journey that introduced me to a new promise. From that day onwards, I vowed to nourish my womanhood as I did my hair.
XOXO
RN
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