It has been 10 months since I went to the hairdresser.
It is not neglect. It is not a lack of time.
It’s just that every time I think about going, my body says "no."
The smell of ammonia from the dyes. The constant noise of the hairdryer. Having another person touch my hair for half an hour. The smell of commercial shampoos that, compared to mine (natural, almost odorless), overwhelm me in seconds. People talking. Cross conversations. Mirrors everywhere reflecting constant movement.
It is not uncomfortable. It is pure sensory overload.
And when I leave there, I do not leave looking good. I leave exhausted.
That’s why my mother has become a fantastic hairdresser. Through practice with me and my siblings. Because at home I can breathe. I can ask her to stop when I need to. I can be silent. I can use my products.
Because personal care, for many neurodivergent individuals, is not routine.
It is sensory survival.
And no one taught us that it is okay to seek alternatives. That it is okay for "normal" not to work for us.
When was the last time a personal care task left you exhausted instead of cared for?
THE HAIRDRESSER AS A SENSORY MINEFIELD
Let’s break down what really happens in a hairdresser for a neurodivergent nervous system.
The smell: Ammonia, dyes, lacquers, scented shampoos. For a person with olfactory hypersensitivity, those smells are not "strong". They are invasive. They enter through the nose and activate the alert system. You can't stop smelling them. You can't filter them.
The noise: Hairdryers, background music, overlapping conversations, the sound of scissors near your ears. "GRRRRRR" All at the same time. Without pause. For someone with atypical auditory processing, this is not ambiance. It's chaos.
The touch: Unknown hands touching your head, your neck, your hair. For many neurodivergent individuals, the unexpected or unwanted touch triggers deep discomfort responses. It's not antisocial. It's defensive tactile: the nervous system interprets this contact as a threat.
The visual: Mirrors everywhere. Bright lights. People constantly moving in your field of vision. For someone with visual sensitivity, it's exhausting to process so much movement.
The social: The expectation of conversation. Of being polite. Of answering questions. When what you need is silence to manage all the sensory information you are receiving.
And you are supposed to leave there feeling good. Cared for.
But you leave dysregulated.
"Personal care cannot be real care if the process of carrying it out dysregulates the nervous system."
— Verònica Martín
CUTTING NAILS
We are talking about something seemingly insignificant: cutting nails.
For many people, it is an automatic gesture. For others, it is a battle.
The sound of the clippers. That click-click metallic. For someone with auditory hypersensitivity, it can be unbearable.
The feeling of pressure on the nail just before it is cut. For someone with increased tactile sensitivity, that pressure can be perceived as pain.
And then there is the post-cut sensation: shorter nails, different contact with surfaces, tactile information that suddenly changes. For a nervous system that needs sensory predictability, this can be very destabilizing.
And many neurodivergent adults have learned to cut their nails in specific ways: with a file instead of clippers, only when they are alone, with music to mask the sound, or leaving them longer than socially expected because that is what their body tolerates.
"Sensory sensitivity does not distinguish between 'important' and 'small' tasks; the nervous system responds to information, not to the social relevance of the activity."
— Research on sensory processing, Dunn et al.
WATER ON THE FACE: WHEN WASHING HAIR IS ANXIETY
Here is something that very few people understand: for many neurodivergent individuals, washing their hair is not relaxing. It is distressing..
I’m not talking about laziness. I’m talking about physiological alarm response.
Water falling on the face. Eyes covered. Blocking breathing for a second. Changing skin temperature suddenly.
For a brain that processes danger signals more intensely, this can be interpreted as a real threat.
It’s not rational. It’s automatic.
I remember when my daughter would go into absolute panic when I tried to wash her hair in the bathtub. Tears, resistance, distress for both of us.
Until I understood: the bathtub was for relaxing and playing. The shower was for hair.
Why? Because in the shower I could entertain her by painting the shower screen with foam or with my finger. She could have a point of focus that wasn’t the water falling. She could have control.
But there are people who need to wash their hair at the kitchen sink. Because they feel safer. Because they can better control the water flow. Because they can keep their face out of the water the whole time.
It’s not strange. It’s sensory adaptation.
And it's perfectly fine.
"Water on the face activates brainstem responses associated with the immersion reflex, which in individuals with hyperactive alert systems can be perceived as danger."
— Neuroscience of sensory processing, Porges & colleagues.
WHEN PERSONAL ATTENTION BECOMES NEGOTIATION
There are days when brushing teeth is too much.
The texture of the brush. The foam of the paste. The mint flavor (which for many individuals with taste sensitivity is aggressive, not refreshing). The repetitive movement inside the mouth, with my 4-year-old we use coconut oil, because no toothpaste works, but it took us 2 years to be able to put the brush inside the mouth.
There are days when showering is too much.
The change in temperature. The sound of the water. The feeling of the drops on the skin. Not wanting to get in and then not wanting to get out. Having to make decisions (Which shampoo do I use? How long do I stay? Is that enough?).
And then guilt arrives.
Because these things are supposed to be basic. Simple. Automatic.
But for a neurodivergent nervous system neurodivergent, nothing is automatic if it requires processing intense sensory information.
And it's okay to seek different solutions:
- Flavorless toothpaste or coconut oil
- Softer brushes
- Showering with music that regulates
- Washing in parts instead of all at once
- Using towels when showering is too much
- Cutting hair at home, with someone you trust
- Looking for sensory-friendly hair salons (they exist, although they are few)
It's not giving up. It's adapting care to your real body, not to the body you are supposed to have.
"Adaptation is not failure; it is applied sensory intelligence for everyday survival."
— Verònica Martín
NEURODIVERGENT PEOPLE EXPERIENCE THINGS DIFFERENTLY
And here is the crux of it all:
Neurodivergent people process sensory information differently.
Not always more intensely. Sometimes less. Sometimes differently.
But differently.
What for some is "a pleasantly scented shampoo," for us can be an olfactory assault.
What for some is "a normal hairdryer," for us can be deafening noise.
What for some is "relaxing in the bathtub," for us can be pure anxiety.
And for a long time, we were made to believe that we were exaggerating. Sensitive. Difficult.
Until we understood that our nervous system is not broken. It just works differently.
And that self-care must adapt to this.
Not the other way around.
"There is no one right way to take care of yourself. There are ways that respect your neurology and ways that violate it."
— Verònica Martín
To start wrapping up...
If washing your hair causes you anxiety, that's okay.
If you prefer to cut your hair at home, that's okay.
If you need to brush your teeth without toothpaste, that's okay.
If there are days when personal care is too much, that's okay too.
Your body is not wrong. It just needs you to listen to it.
And for you to find your way of taking care of yourself. Not the one you are supposed to use.
What personal care task is the hardest for you?
Have you found any adaptations that work for you and would like to share in case it helps someone else?
I hear you. And if you haven't found your way yet, that's okay too. Let's keep searching together.
Verònica Martín
Director of ATIPICOS.org & A-Tipic Biointeriors