Lessons learnt from a bald head

“Are you sure?” asked my razor, buzzing with excitement. “Hell yeah!” said I.  Slowly and passionately, I started removing my hair off my head, strip by strip. There was no looking back now.

It was like magic. I felt there was a new person evolving in the mirror, with every swipe of the razor against my head. In ten minutes, I could see this bald badass in the mirror gleaming at me.

This delightful activity brought with it the following  lessons, that I learnt the next day, when I faced the world (read: office). I had no hair to hide behind. It was just my scalp, pushed into their faces.

I learnt that people are not used to seeing a bald woman. I felt like the centre stage of the Madison Square garden the whole day. Side glances and questioning looks, mostly from women seemed to say it all, "Where is her hair?!" Many got a sudden look of sadness when they saw me, assuming that I was sick, because apparently the only reason for a woman to shave her head is for medical purposes. The other most popular look was pure shock. What would possess me to remove my hair? And all of it? Why not just a little bit at a time? Just one perfectly healthy and completely sane bald girl here, nothing to see.

       I learnt that I am more comfortable with my looks after I got rid of my hair. Now, of course I had to let go of what the beauty industry says is beautiful. That doesn’t mean just letting go of hair styles etc. I mean really letting go of those ideas. I had to embrace, or at least put up with the fact that my head is a funny shape. Everyone’s head is a funny shape, and each head is unique, but if you have hair, you cover most of the lumps and bumps. If you shave your head, you put it on display. I got used to it and got over it in some time.  Also, I had to accept that my ears were big, and not of this season’s colour. I had to accept the very fact that I had ears on the sides of my head. It was wonderful, as after a long time, I did not feel the need to be told that I am beautiful. Because I felt that I am beautiful. Same for every feature on my face. It was empowering enough to be able to say “you know what? Fuck it”.

  I learnt that I am a brave person- at least according to some people. However, most of the people who  said this to me were the ones who have done things or are doing things which are “really” brave. Maybe, courage is just a matter of perception?

       I learnt that if you shave your head, people will constantly ask you why you shaved your head. They will expect something other than “because I wanted to” as an answer. Some people will seem to be almost offended if there isn’t some grand scheme or noble cause behind your decision. If you shave your head to raise money for charity, people get that. If you shave your head because you felt like doing it, many people don’t understand. I was already rocking a pixie before shaving my head, so donating my two inch hair did not make any sense at all. The fact that I shaved my head just for the fun of it was like a corrupted file for the weak processors of the small brains of few people.

 Another very interesting observation was that, I became conscious of other bald people. It was almost like a buddy system. I felt like giving a shout-out to every bald person rocking around. I felt I’m in a secret club for awesome bald friends only. Have there always been these many bald middle-aged men? 

At the end of the day, there was nothing better than being able to go into the bathroom, plug in an electric razor, and removing every piece of hair from my head. So many people are obsessed with their hair and their bad hair days that it can be so refreshing to wake up and not have to worry anymore. No more hair products for voluminous sexy hair, no more shampoos and conditioners for sleek and shiny break-free strands, just me and my head in the rawest form possible. My confidence flew through the roof! And while I couldn’t control what others thought of me, I could control what I wanted to look like and that made me feel fantastic…