why I hate going to the hairdresser's as an autistic person

Hey readers,

For many people, going to the hairdresser's is a routine task or even an enjoyable treat.

It can be relaxing, social, and part of regular self-care.

why I hate going to the hairdresser's as an autistic person


But for many autistic people, including myself, the experience can be overwhelming, exhausting, and sometimes genuinely distressing.

The challenge isn’t about being dramatic or picky.

 It’s about how certain environments and experiences interact with the way autistic brains process sensory information, communication, and social expectations. 

Living with Autism Spectrum Disorder means that everyday environments others barely notice can quickly become intense and difficult to manage.

The hairdresser is one of those environments.

The Sensory Overload.

Hair salons are full of sensory input. 

For someone who experiences heightened sensory sensitivity, which is common in autism, this can quickly become overwhelming.

The first thing I notice when I walk in is the noise.

 Hairdryers are blasting hot air, clippers buzzing, scissors snipping, conversations happening all around, music playing, phones ringing, and sometimes multiple people talking at once. 

None of it stops. 

None of it fades into the background.

For someone with typical sensory filtering, these sounds may blend together.

 But autistic sensory processing often works differently.

 Every sound can feel equally important and equally loud. 

My brain tries to process all of it at the same time, which quickly leads to overload.

Then there are the smells. 

Hair products, hairspray, bleach, dye, shampoo, conditioner, cleaning products, and sometimes perfume from staff or customers all mix together in the air. 

The scent can be incredibly strong and linger the entire time.

The lighting can also be harsh.

 Many salons use bright overhead lights so stylists can see clearly.

 But bright lighting can feel intense and uncomfortable for some autistic people, making it difficult to relax.

By the time the haircut has even started, my nervous system is already on edge.

Being Touched by a Stranger.

Another difficult part of the experience is physical contact.

Haircuts involve a lot of touching. 

Someone is standing very close to you, touching your hair, your head, your neck, and sometimes your face. 

They may tilt your head, move it suddenly, or brush hair off your skin.

For people who are sensitive to touch, this can feel extremely uncomfortable.

It’s not that the hairdresser is doing anything wrong. 

They’re doing their job. 

But being touched repeatedly by someone I barely know can make me feel tense the entire time.

Even small things can feel overwhelming, like loose hair falling down my neck, the tickling feeling of cut hair on my skin, or the cold spray of water from a spray bottle.

For someone whose sensory system already feels overloaded, these sensations can push things even further.

The Small Talk Problem.

Another big challenge is the social expectation that comes with haircuts: small talk.

Many hairdressers are trained to be friendly and chatty.

 For lots of customers, this makes the experience pleasant.

 But for autistic people, constant conversation with a stranger can be stressful.


There’s often an unspoken script to these conversations.

“What are you doing today?”

“Any plans for the weekend?”

“Going on holiday anywhere nice?”

These questions might seem harmless, but answering them while trying to manage sensory overload, physical discomfort, and anxiety can feel like juggling too many things at once.

On top of that, there’s the pressure to respond in the “right” way. 

Social cues, tone of voice, and knowing when to speak or stop speaking can take conscious effort for autistic people. 

What feels like casual conversation for one person can feel like a performance for another.

Sometimes I just want quiet. 

But asking for silence can feel awkward or rude.

So instead, I try to keep up the conversation while internally counting down the minutes until the haircut is over.

The Fear of Miscommunication.

Haircuts also involve explaining exactly what you want.

This sounds simple, but it’s surprisingly difficult.

Hair terminology can be vague or confusing.

 Words like “a little shorter,” “tidy it up,” or “take some weight off” can mean different things to different people. 

Even showing pictures doesn’t always guarantee the result you expect.

For autistic people who rely on precise.

 communication, this uncertainty can create anxiety.

What if I explain it wrong?

What if they misunderstand?

What if I end up with a haircut I hate?

Once the cutting starts, there’s also pressure to speak up if something isn’t right. 

But many autistic people struggle with confrontation or correcting others in the moment.

So you sit there hoping everything will turn out okay.

The Loss of Control.

Haircuts also involve a loss of control.

You’re sitting in a chair with a cape wrapped tightly around your neck. 

You can’t easily move. 

Someone else is deciding what to do with your hair, using tools very close to your face.

Even if nothing goes wrong, the situation can feel vulnerable.

Autistic people often rely on routine and predictability to feel comfortable. 

But hair appointments can be unpredictable. 

A stylist might suggest something new, change techniques, or cut more than expected.

That unpredictability can create anxiety long before the appointment even begins.

The Waiting Room Stress.

Even before the haircut starts, there’s the waiting area.

You walk in and immediately face social uncertainty. 

Do you check in?

 Sit down? 

Wait to be called?

 Is someone going to greet you, or are you supposed to approach the desk?

Waiting rooms are also filled with people, noise, mirrors, and movement. 

Watching others get their hair cut can add another layer of sensory and social tension.

Sometimes the hardest part is just sitting there, knowing the experience is about to start.

The Exhaustion Afterwards.

When the haircut is finally finished, many people feel refreshed.

I feel exhausted.

Managing sensory input, social interaction, and anxiety for an extended period takes a huge amount of mental energy. 

By the time I leave, I often feel drained and need time alone to recover.

This kind of exhaustion is common for autistic people after intense environments.

It’s not just about being tired; it’s about needing time for the nervous system to settle again.

What Would Make It Easier?

Despite all of this, haircuts don’t have to be unbearable. 

Small changes can make a huge difference.

Quiet appointments or quieter salons can reduce sensory overload. 

Some hairdressers now offer “silent appointments,” where customers can opt out of small talk entirely.

Clear communication also helps.

 Explaining each step before doing it, asking before touching, and giving the customer time to process instructions can make the experience far less stressful.

Even small things like dimmer lighting, fewer strong scents, or offering sensory-friendly times can make salons more accessible.

For autistic people, it’s rarely the haircut itself that’s the problem.

 It’s everything surrounding it.

Going to the hairdresser's is a simple routine for many people. 

But for autistic individuals, it can be a complex and overwhelming experience filled with sensory challenges, social pressure, and uncertainty.

Understanding these challenges doesn’t just help autistic customers. 

It helps create more inclusive spaces where everyone can feel comfortable.

Because sometimes the difference between a stressful experience and a manageable one comes down to something simple: awareness, patience, and a little bit of flexibility.

Cheers for reading X 

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