7 Women On What It Felt Like To Shave Their Heads. And The Reactions They Got

There is a new and growing community of women who are shaving their heads. For some it's what makes them feel gutsy, fearless and free. For others, it's like taking head on stereotypes that women must have long wavy tresses to be 'beautiful.' Seven women share what prompted them to shave their heads and how things changed for them, not just in society but within.

Bhavani Ramesh, Writer, 38

It started as a whim... My brother had done it when he was in college and I wanted to too but didn't gather enough courage. Once I got independent and was living & working in Mumbai I decided to shave it all off. Though it was before a two month sabbatical from work so I wasn't being all that brave.

But trying to make it happen was an eye opener. I called multiple salons in Mumbai and they all said they cannot shave off a woman's hair because of their values, 'our culture'. Each call made my resolve stronger.

I lived in Mahim then but a male friend's barber agreed. That was all the way at Peddar Road. And that is where I shaved off my hair – at a male barber! The barber didn't bat an eyelid at my request but got straight to the job.

What they told me. I was asked repeatedly why I wanted to do it. They didn't buy my lack of a concrete reason.  I was told that women shouldn't shave off their hair and that oft repeated line was thrown at me too – it's your beauty!

My parents were unconcerned. My father liked it so much that he was inspired to shave his hair too but at that time, we were traveling remotely, far from a safe barber, so decided against it.

Hair grows back. A bald head isn't permanent and yet people are so worried or paranoid about this loss of so called beauty. Probably this old connection to widows being asked to shave their hair as it make them undesirable.

Will I do it again.Totally! And all for that first shower of cold water on a freshly shaved bald head, you feel every mm. It's awakening. I wanted to do during this lockdown but instead gave myself an almost buzz cut.

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Nilima Nigam, Math Professor, 47

My 3-yr. old daughter came home from preschool one day, distraught that her hair wasn't long, curly and blonde; apparently the girls in her preschool had decided that this was an important part of being beautiful. So my kid was convinced she wasn't beautiful.

Now, of course, my daughter is gorgeous (all our daughters are). I gave her the usual recommended spiel: it's about inner beauty, there are different forms of external beauty, don't let anyone else define you. But she wasn't really convinced. When I told her all forms of hairstyles could be beautiful, including being bald, she looked at me with great scepticism.

That was the motivation for my first head shave, right there: showing my daughter that who we are, how beautiful we feel,  doesn't depend on the state or style of our hair.

When I got home with a shaved skull, my kids were astounded. Then they loved it. They loved feeling the shape of their mom's skull. Most importantly, they learned that a 'why-the-fuck-do-you-get-a-say-in-my-life?' attitude is a lived, and livable, attitude. My daughter is now a very confident 11-year-old, with an abrasive, fascinating, brilliant personality all her own.

What changed after that? Well, I was initially taken aback by my own reaction, but found this a great way to learn about myself. Then there's the convenience. No more shampoo, conditioner, towels, hair-wash schedule, dryer, combs....travel has never been so easy! Next: back in 2012, in this part of the world (in Canada) shaved heads amongst women were rare, and associated with cancer survival. I realized my friends who are fighting cancer face the pitying looks every day. It's irritating as heck. So I decided to make this a regular thing, in solidarity with my friends. Survivors don't need pity from a distance.

Reactions? I can't honestly say I cared about the reactions I received, apart from my kids and my closest friends/family. The only person who absolutely hated it was my dad, but he adores me, so that was OK anyways.

The reactions that mattered most were those of my kids, who thought this was really cool.

Professionally? I'm a mathematician in a university, and as a profession, personal appearance is not a factor. It's content over form, almost militantly.

Did it do something deeper? It started as being about my daughter, then became an object lesson about the influences we live with.

My own initial reactions were complex. It was easy to get my head shaved the first time, not knowing really what to expect. It was harder immediately thereafter to accept that every flaw, every wrinkle, every blemish on my face was somehow magnified.

But there's something deeper going on. Shaving one's head provokes some questions which strike at the heart of our attitudes in society. A reader may think "X looks great with a shaved head! But I couldn't do that". I'd respond: dear reader, of course you -could- shave your head, it's as easy as picking up a set of clippers. Instead: are you not shaving your head because you don't want to, or because you don't think you have permission to? If you thought of shaving your head and decided you preferred a different style, that's great. If you thought of shaving your head, but were concerned about whether society around you would accept it - well, you're waiting for permission. What else are you waiting for permission for?

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Suman Chopra, Home Maker, 62

Many years back I had seen Shabana Azmi and Nandita Das shave their heads, and was very impressed by their boldness and looks. So it was a hidden desire. I too wanted to look different. The Lockdown had closed parlours, so I could not go for haircut or hair dye. It was a spur of the moment decision. It was my own personal decision.  I asked my husband to shave my head using normal home scissors and a disposable razor.

Apprehensions? I had taken my own decision. I never consulted anyone. There were no apprehensions at all. Normally the family becomes a stumbling block for women to take bold decisions. My husband always supports my decisions, and therefore I did not have to ask him, before I announced my call. In fact he actually did the head shave for me.

I was very excited to see my face in the mirror. I was proud that I had done it. I was excited and felt I was very bold. I decided to dress as a Yogini by draping a saffron saree like a robe and took a picture. I immediately put the picture on Facebook without any explanations, so as to get natural reactions of my friends and relatives. Yes, a few were shocked, but everyone complimented me for the boldness and the bald look went well with my round face. I was excited by the responses. The new look actually boosted my self confidence. One has to learn to do things that please him/her, and not worry of what others think. This feeling is reassuring. My husband who had shaved my head was himself so excited.

My Facebook was flooded with comments, such as : "Still as gorgeous as ever...". "Cool Look". "You look amazing and what a great Lockdown Experiment". "Really Suman awesome". "Ek aur roop dheekha deya"

Will I do it once again? Yes. I feel so much lighter on the head. My hair have now grown a little and they are now like military crew cut. My next plan is to make a butterfly design at a professional saloon. Senior citizens, this is a good time to experiment, and fulfil your life hidden desires.

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Koyel Lahiri, PhD Scholar, 33

It' something I've wanted to do since middle school, as a joyous experiment to see what it felt like and who I was without my hair. A couple of years ago many factors came together to make it the perfect time to go for it.

Society? It continues to have very rigid notions of how men and women should wear their hair-long, for women, short for men (unless sanctioned by religion). Strangely, bald heads draw negative attention for men too; as a society we really attribute too much to hair! I distinctly remember when as a 22-ish year old I went to chop off my long hair into a pixie, the female hairdresser asked me whether I was trying to be a boy.

Nobody explicitly told me I shouldn't go bald, or why I shouldn't do it, except some friends who would playfully say they'd disown me if I went through with it. I was asked several times if I was sure, and a dear friend and the hair dresser even went through the trouble of giving me a whole different, radical haircut as an in-between step, just in case I changed my mind. I didn't though, because I knew what I wanted and my self-image was not attached to my hair.

The real me: I was surprised by how much I liked it, how close it felt to the 'real' me. I felt light, and beautiful. The aim right now is to celebrate the end of my PhD (if and when that comes) by going bald. I should add though, that I wonder if my enthusiasm for baldness springs from the fact that I have a choice- I know my hair will grow back. If it didn't, would I, as someone who loves experimenting with hair, be willing to bear the monotony of the same 'haircut' for the rest of my life? Probably not.

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Jaya Berged, Artist & Theatre Director, 32

I was in the process of disentangling myself from my former religious beliefs, and shaving off my hair was a symbolic act for me of reclaiming authority over my own life. It was a statement I made to myself about being in control of my own story, and being my authentic self, not trying to conform to what others expected me to be. When I shaved my head, I promised myself I wouldn't cover my bald head with a scarf or a cap or anything else, and that I would wear my baldness with pride.But women shaving heads? There is a verse in the Bible that says long hair is the glory of a woman, that long hair (and head coverings in general) are a symbol of man's authority over woman. When I was religious, I sincerely believed that my role was to submit to the authority of the men in my life, and that I needed to have long hair because of what the Bible said. The Bible also said in the same passage that "if a woman will not cover her head, let her head be shorn" and so for a woman to have a shaved head was seen as a shameful thing.

When I was in the process of having my head shaved, this passage resonated in my head constantly. "If a woman will not cover her head, let her head be shorn" and as my hair kept coming off, I kept telling myself "I will not cover my head, I will let my head be shorn". It was nerve wracking and exhilarating. The symbolic act of shaving my head really helped restore my sense of control over my own life.

I have often thought about it. I think I probably will do it again at some point. I've coloured my hair a few different colours recently, I've experimented with it in different ways, but I do often feel tempted to revisit the bald head experience and re-live some of that freedom and power. It's nice to feel so light and airy around the head, and it is such a satisfying tactile/sensory experience to run my hands over the soft carpet of freshly grown head-stubble. Thinking about it right now is making me want to do it again!

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Zalina Gamat, Butoh dancer, performer and guide, 43

It was a decision my partner and I took together. We have been in lockdown since March, and a lot of things began to surface - negative patterns, insecurities and fears. It was a way to let go. It was also a way for us to come together in this tough time. We shaved each other's heads, and not having the correct tools it took a long time! We enjoyed this intimate, supportive space together.

And the reaction? I was surprised that barring one person, no one seemed to have a negative reaction. A few people said I looked like 'the Ancient One' played by Tilda Swinton in 'The Avengers' :D. I received comments online that I was 'brave'. It didn't feel brave, it just felt like the right thing to do. I even received a sketch from a friend of my baldness because she said it inspired her.

I wasn't trying to prove a point or be different, but these reactions, though positive, showed me how much stigma is attached to women going bald.

Right now my hair has grown back about a cm, and I'm really enjoying this look :) I've been thinking it might be fun to colour it in this length. So I have no plans as of now, either to grow it out or grow bald, I'll see what feels right, what I feel like doing :)

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Piyusha Vir, Author, 37

When I first watched Amy Schumer’s ‘I Feel Pretty’ I wished to have that kind of confidence. I wished to feel like I owned my body and my appearance in a way that was personal and intimate, even if meant something only to me. I’ve been contemplating getting my hair completely shaved for a long time now.
Although it was a heart-felt desire, the actual decision is not something I took because I was too attached to my hair. Not just me, many of many friends loved my wavy hair too. The day I actually decided to do it, it was a snap decision. Because it was for a specific cause (hair donation for Cancer survivors), I had to wait instructions from someone on how to actually do the shaving.

Once I got the instructional videos, I couldn’t wait to get to the salon. Finding one that would do it as per their specifications (Traditional men’s salon, straight razor blade, no machine) was a task. I was extremely emotional as it was happening. I saw the blade move across my head and my heart was in my mouth. There was no going back now. This step was particularly difficult for me because I've always been extremely fond of my hair. Especially, because with curly, dry hair, maintenance takes time and effort and, needless to say, one gets attached to it over time when you put in so much effort in maintaining it.

To say it was quite a drastic change is putting is mildly. As the hair got separated from my head, I was battling myriad emotions – excitement, anxiety, pride because this was something I was doing for a specific reason. I was worried also about how it would look and what would people say. Although that wasn't on my mind at all when taking this decision or even while sitting on the chair. But once it was all over and I saw myself in the mirror, the enormity of what I'd done hit me.

I immediately sent a pic to my mom because I needed to hear from her first. Her reaction was heartening and quite reassuring. Then I sent the same picture to a couple of friends who were understandably shocked. Not just at what I’d done but also the way I’d done it. (It wasn’t something I’d discussed with any of my friends earlier.) The reactions from friends and family as the word spread was really encouraging. It removed all my doubts and fears. A few people couldn’t get over their curiosity as to why would I do something like this, and some were concerned whether I had been diagnosed with some terminal illness. While I do understand the reasons for some of the reactions, it was still quite amusing to me.

The absence of long wavy tresses covering my shoulders is still something I am getting used to. It was only yesterday (almost a week after I actually got my hair shaved) that I realized I could put away my favourite hairclip that was still lying on my bedside. I'm thrilled at what I've done, of course. It's liberating, physically and spiritually. It accords one a sense of freedom and agency that can only be experienced. It’s empowering to feel that fearless and freedom. Not just because of not having long lustrous locks, but also from what people would think or say.

Of course, I still get startled every time I see myself in the mirror. It takes me a few seconds of wondering if the person in the mirror is actually me, to reminding myself that I need to get used to what I look like now. And while that may take some getting used, what I know now is that I really do feel pretty.