Hair Oiling Was My First Lesson in Real Care Before trends. Before influencers. Before “must-have” products. There was my mother—and a small bowl of warm, organic coconut oil. Hair oiling wasn’t optional in my childhood. It had cared in its purest form. No urgency. No marketing. Just hands that knew what they were doing and time that was given freely. Back then, I didn’t call it self-care. I just felt safe. When Trends Took Over—and I Lost My Hair in the Process Growing up meant discovering trends. And I followed them enthusiastically. I coloured and straightened my hair. Chemically treated it. Then came the styling. For curls, I used too many products—creams, mousses, sprays, serums—layered one after another. For straightening, I relied on high heat, often repeating passes because “it needs to be sleeker.” It looked good only for a moment. But my hair paid the price. Slowly, it became: I was protecting a look, not myself. The Moment I Realised Trends Don’t Protect the Real You This was the turning point. No trending product was actually protecting me—or my hair. They sold speed. Finish. Control. But they didn’t offer care. That’s when it hit me: Nothing trending replaces the kind of care your mother gives. because it’s real, patient, and rooted in benefit, not hype. My mother’s way wasn’t fancy. But it was honest. And honesty lasts. The Reality of Chemically Treated Hair Chemical treatments weaken the hair’s natural protein structure. Add heat and product overload, and the damage compounds. What I learned (the hard way): Hair doesn’t need more control. It needs recovery. Going Back to Hair Oiling: The Real Reset Instead of chasing another fix, I went back to the ritual I had abandoned. Consistent hair oiling with pure coconut oil. Not as a trend. As trust. I stopped asking, “What’s new?” And started asking, “What actually works?” Fact: Consistent Hair Oiling Improves Scalp Circulation That glow isn’t accidental. Regular oiling with gentle massage improves blood flow to the scalp, delivering nutrients to the hair follicles. This support is essential for damaged or chemically treated hair. Healthy hair begins at the scalp—always. Why Coconut hair Oil Still Earns Its Place I still use pure coconut oil for hair, because it does what many products promise: It doesn’t pretend to be magic. It just works—over time. Calm Nervous Systems Improve Skin and Hair Health The ritual itself changed me. Oiling my hair slowed me down. It reminded me that care doesn’t rush. That stress doesn’t belong everywhere. And when my nervous system calmed, my body responded: I wasn’t just fixing my hair; I was returning to myself. Fact: Minimal Routines Are Easier to Maintain Long-Term Consistency wins. The biggest lesson? Doing less—consistently—beats doing more occasionally. My routine became simple: That’s when my hair started healing—not dramatically, but honestly. What Hair Recovery Really Looks Like Real recovery is quiet. First, breakage reduces. Then texture improves. Then shine returns. Then strength follows. One day, you realise you’re no longer fighting your hair. And that’s freedom. The Truth I’m Keeping Nothing trending ever protected the real me. But my mother’s care did. Because real care isn’t loud. It doesn’t change every season. It doesn’t need selling. It stays. It supports. It works. And yes—turns out, she was right all along.

finding yourself after motherhood The Woman I’m Becoming Again I grew up surrounded by love, the loud, beautiful kind. A big family. Close friends. Goa in the background like a permanent postcard… sunlit afternoons, beach winds, laughter that didn’t need a reason, and memories stitched together by togetherness. It wasn’t perfect, but it was full. The kind of childhood that leaves you feeling like you always belong somewhere. And maybe that’s why I always believed dreams could come true because life started by showing me warmth. I carried a childhood dream quietly for years: I wanted to be an air hostess. Not for glamour, although it did feel glamorous in its own way but because it meant freedom. It meant becoming someone. It meant stepping out into the world with confidence, polished hair, a bright smile, and a sense of purpose that was entirely mine. And when it happened, when I actually became one, it didn’t feel unreal… it felt right. Like a part of me had finally arrived. Then life gave me another dream, the kind that feels like fate when it happens. I married an army pilot. Even writing that still makes my heart smile a little, because it truly felt like another dream come true. I had love, I had direction, and I had people — friends who held my hand through different stages, family who reminded me who I was when I forgot, and a life that seemed to be unfolding exactly the way I once imagined. Everything was aligning. Until it wasn’t. There was a loss that changed me in a way I didn’t know words could explain. I had a miscarriage… and it broke my heart. It’s the kind of pain that lives quietly inside you. The kind of grief that doesn’t always have an audience, because the world moves on faster than your heart can. It leaves you holding prayers for someone you never got to hold in your arms — a baby you still think about in silence. I carry those prayers even now. For my baby in heaven. For the little soul that will always be part of my story. And then… life softened again. I had a baby boy. My son. The love I felt wasn’t normal love — it was a whole new language. He didn’t just make me happy… he changed the meaning of happiness. He didn’t just make me a mother… he made me understand what it means to live for someone outside of yourself. My heart reached heights I didn’t even know existed. Motherhood, though… motherhood is not easy. It asks for everything. And I gave it everything. I enjoyed it deeply, even in the exhausting moments — the sleeplessness, the constant giving, the way a mother’s mind never truly rests. I poured myself into it fully, because I knew what it meant to lose. I knew how fragile joy could be. So I held onto my son like he was the answer to every prayer I had ever whispered. And he was. But now, time is moving. My son is growing up. And somewhere along the way, I started to feel something I didn’t expect. Lost. Not as a mother — I know who I am in his world. But as a woman in the real world. The version of me that had dreams, ambition, sparkle, identity… she feels distant sometimes, like a photograph from another lifetime. There are days I look in the mirror and wonder when I became someone who’s always strong, always holding it together, always doing the right thing… but quietly forgetting what I need too. And lately, I’ve been feeling something shift. A gentle pull back to myself. Because as much as my son needs me… he also needs to know me. Not just the mother who sacrifices. Not just the woman who gives. But the woman who lives. The woman who dreams. The woman who becomes. I want him to see me at my best. I want him to know the person I used to be — and the person I’m becoming again. I want him to grow up watching his mother choose herself too, not out of selfishness, but out of strength. Out of love. Out of example. Because one day, he’ll understand that a mother can love deeply… and still grow. And maybe that’s what this chapter is for. Finding myself again. Not to go back to who I was… but to finally step into who I’m meant to be. This is not just my story. It’s my return.

SOFT LOB WITH FACE FRAMING LAYERS Get to know me and find out where it all began. Hair has always been more than a beauty detail for me. It’s been a quiet form of expression — a reflection of my mood, my confidence, and the version of myself I’m stepping into with this hair transformation. Over the years, I’ve tried different lengths, textures, and styling phases. Some were bold. Some were safe. Some were experimental. And some were simply survival — when hair needed care more than it needed attention. Right now, I’m in what I call my quiet luxury phase: a soft, textured lob that feels effortless, modern, and unmistakably me. My hair has never stayed in one era for long — and honestly, I love that. Each phase came with a different energy. Sometimes I craved a fresh start, sometimes I wanted something easy, and sometimes I was rebuilding after stress, weather, styling, or simply overdoing it. What I’ve learned is this: hair doesn’t just change because of trends — it changes because we do. And somewhere between experimenting and evolving, I stopped chasing “perfect hair” and started choosing what felt intentional. Why This Cut Feels Like My Signature The haircut I have now is a textured long bob (lob) — a shoulder-grazing length with soft layers and natural movement. It’s not sharp. It’s not overly styled. It’s the kind of look that holds its shape even when you don’t try too hard — and that’s exactly what makes it feel like a luxurious hair transformation. What makes it feel “expensive” isn’t a dramatic change. It’s the details: It’s a cut that doesn’t demand attention, yet always looks polished. The Shift That Changed Everything There was a time when I treated hair care like something I did only when I had time. A quick wash, quick dry, and move on. But at some point, I realised — hair responds to how you treat it consistently, not occasionally. The biggest “glow-up” wasn’t a salon visit. It was learning the rhythm of my hair: That’s when my approach became more refined. Not complicated — just curated. My Low Maintenance Routine Now: Minimal, Polished and Effective for the best hair transformation. This is my current routine — simple, low-effort, but it gives a soft glam hair finish that works for everyday life. Hair Oiling Was My First Lesson in Real Care The coconut oil we use at home in Goa. Made from fully matured coconuts, dried in the sun and taken to the local mill for extraction. Nothing fancy is done to it. The oil is not refined, not deodorised, and not over-filtered. It’s left as it is. It smells like coconut, turns solid when it’s cool, and may look a little cloudy. That’s normal. That’s how real oil is. We cook with it, use it for hair, massage, and everyday care. This is not made to look perfect — it’s made to be real. This oil is part of my daily routine.I cook with it almost every day — it’s what we’ve always used at home.On hair-wash days, I warm a little and massage it into my scalp before washing.Sometimes, after a bath, I use a small amount for body massage too. It’s simple. It’s familiar. It’s just part of everyday life. 1) Shampoo (2–3 times a week) for a good hair refresh I focus on the scalp, not the lengths. Clean scalp = healthier hair. 2) Conditioner every wash Only mid-lengths to ends. This keeps it light, not flat. 3) Hair rejuvenating hair mask once a week This is where the softness comes from. It makes the texture look more premium. 4) Serum on the ends for total hair enhancement Just a small amount — for shine and a clean finish. 5) Heat protection (always) Even if I’m only doing quick styling. This is the habit that truly protects hair long term. Luxury isn’t about using 20 products. It’s about using the right ones, consistently. Keywords used: hair routine, heat protectant, hair mask, shine, soft glam How I Style This Look (Without Overdoing the hair transformation) The best part about a layered lob haircut is that it doesn’t need heavy styling to look beautiful. My styling goal is always the same: movement + volume + polish. Instead of perfect curls, I prefer: That’s the look that photographs well and still feels wearable in real life. This Era Feels Different This phase feels less about changing my hair and more about owning it. It’s not just a haircut — it’s a mood: I love that it looks styled even when it’s not. I love that it frames my face without trying too hard. And I love that it feels like a signature, the kind of hair that fits your lifestyle, not the other way around. Hair transformations are often seen as aesthetic — but they’re personal. They reflect growth, energy, and identity. For me, this textured lob is not just a look. It’s a reminder that the most beautiful glow-ups are usually the quiet ones — built through care, consistency, and confidence. And if you’re entering a new phase too, take it from me:the best era is the one that feels like you.