I have never felt the pressure to dye my hair, despite having had grey strands since my early teenage years.
In Junior Secondary School, when I first noticed a few thin, grey strands, I was twelve. That was two years before a classmate pointed them out at assembly one morning, giggling.
Although my small brown face blushed, I joined in the laughter because I thought my ‘grey situation’ was better than Grace’s. Grace, my well-rounded classmate had earned the moniker, “cemetery flowers”, because she had a head full of grey hair as a teenager.
I laughed because the grey strands I had spotted earlier were just about three.
Since that incident at the assembly ground, I have grown accustomed to my gradually greying hair as a natural part of me and have accepted the new reality as part of my identity.
But this reality may not be the same for everyone.
My colleague Jon (pseudonym), who has also been greying for some years, tells me he has almost always felt the need to dye his hair black. I didn’t know Jon had any grey hairs until he told me he has in the last eight years always dyed his hair black to avoid mockery by his “friends for looking [too] old at 38.”
A part of my heart broke when Jon admitted that the ridicule sometimes makes him “feel less handsome.”
Like many people, Jon has internalised the message that youth equals beauty and worth, and fears being judged or ridiculed for his age.
This negative internalisation is the devastating impact of ageism – that subtle discrimination that permeates our society and spreads harmful stereotypes and prejudices against individuals based on their age.
Negative internalisation creeps in like a thief in the night, silently stealing away our self-worth and sense of identity.
It begins with a whisper, a discreet inference that we’re not enough, and so not good enough, and thus, not worthy. The whisper grows louder and echoes off the walls of our minds, as we repeat the same harmful mantras to ourselves and project them onto others.
Many people adopt the criticism, make love to the put-downs, and even give birth to the dismissals and rejections and nurse them like babies – unaware [sadly] – until they become a part of their inner dialogue.
A new family we create in our minds.
We then start to believe the lies and begin to see ourselves through the distorted lens of others who don’t even like themselves, and begin to doubt our abilities and worth.
The self-criticism takes hold, and, like a cancer, spreads its roots deep into our psyche until we’re left with a lingering sense of inadequacy and a perpetual feeling of not being enough.
Like other forms of discrimination, ageism has profound effects on its victims and can impact their mental and physical health, social relationships, and overall well-being.
Research has shown that ageism can lead to depression, anxiety, and lower self-esteem, as individuals are sometimes forced to hide their authentic selves and sacrifice their self-esteem and even well-being.
Women, in particular, are disproportionately affected by age-based stereotypes, which can lead to damaging consequences. Younger women are often perceived as less competent in the workplace, while older women are frequently seen as less attractive and less valuable.
This relentless pressure to conform to unrealistic beauty standards and constantly prove oneself can result in crippling anxiety, depression, and in extreme cases, the erosion of one’s sense of self-worth.
But through the chaos, we possess the requisite resilience to shatter these shackles.
We have the power to challenge these harmful stereotypes, to rewire our minds with affirming truths and self-love, to rise above the toxic noise of negativity.
It’s a new season, a fresh opportunity to redefine what it means to age. Can we just age, with dignity, with grace, with unapologetic pride?
