I was 13 when my mother first noticed a few strands of grey hair while oiling it one weekend. She naturally freaked, proceeded to pluck them out and then used several oils to stop the process. She didn’t succeed because, by the time I started working, I had enough grey that they needed to be camouflaged.
Enter the messy henna paste treatment. For several years I used to apply a henna paste to my hair every month. Mixed with coffee powder, beetroot juice and amla powder – all suggested to darken the colour – when the henna would fade, my hair was a ghastly mix of slate black and orange! Then I switched to hair colour thanks to the suggestions of beauty professionals I interviewed during my day job. Here too, the monthly salon visits, and, hiding of the roots with kajal in between colour sessions in case of an upcoming important event, were as painful as visits to the dentist.
Then you had rude colleagues or strangers who would pointedly stare at the roots that show up a week after you colour your hair. I’ve had colleagues even ask me ‘You have grey hair?’ From being embarrassed to feeling ashamed to making a snarky retort, I’ve been through the gamut.
Colouring hair also comes with side effects. After all, you are dousing your hair in so much chemical goop month after month. My hair would weigh heavily on my scalp, which, after so many years of colour, had turned pink! Then, while oiling my hair, it would hurt to massage. But I soldiered on, for reasons of vanity, and maternal disapproval at roots showing and the aforementioned rude stares. During the colder months, leaving hair colour on for close to an hour inevitably led to head colds and sinus problems. Severe headaches where it hurt to even bend would follow, and I would need all sorts of natural remedies to get better, fast.
Gradually, living in the city I now am in, where we get hard water in the taps, damaged my hair further. It would lie flat and lank no matter how fancy the salon where I got it cut. I would use the high-end salon range of colour, shampoo and conditioner but over time, the hair fall increased and soon, my once thick and curly hair became limp and scanty.
Often, I was tempted to stop the colouring chore but I didn’t. Then, when the hairfall didn’t stop, I finally decided to do so. But it was not easy. It took me a year of self-talk and psyching myself to feel confident enough to stay silver. I knew the flip side – I would look older than I am; friends ten years older than me were still colouring their hair; and, wearing certain colours or gold jewellery would be a hit and miss. After all the overthinking and pros and cons later, I decided I would take the plunge.
I stopped colouring. Initially, the stares were awkward to deal with, so I would wear headbands to cover my hair. Then, when the roots got to a decent length, my hairdresser chopped off the darker, dyed bits. After that, it was easier. People stare even today because the trend here in India is still that of wanting to look younger. I am used to the stares by now. grey hair
What was truly liberating though was the fact that I did not have to go through that long and messy process. I felt free in my head; almost as if I had taken a giant step towards self-acceptance on all fronts. It felt good to have the thickness return to my hair. They even grew faster. The only problem left was that of removing the yellow tint in the hair. Luckily, cosmetic companies are aware of the problem and there are several good shampoos to remove the tint and give hair a silver glow.
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What I earlier thought was a drawback – that people would think I am older than I am – has also worked to my advantage. In traffic, brats speeding in sports cars and other rash drivers on the road slow down when I show my hand and struggle to run across. They think it is an old lady wanting to cross the road! At other times, when I tell people off, for troubling a street dog or other such stuff, they listen quietly rather than argue with someone they think is a senior citizen! Best of all, when I walk my dog early in the morning on empty streets, no one bothers me by driving too close as they do to younger women. Of course, the fact that said dog is a rottweiler gives me a fillip of attitude too!
Accepting my grey hair has truly been a long, hard journey. From having low levels of confidence due to their presence, to now revelling in the silver streaks, I have come a long way. Hopefully, my body will forgive me for all the chemicals I forced on it all these years. My hair certainly has.
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