A hairstylist is my title, but doesn’t define what I really do. The journey and opportunities surrounding everything hair has been nothing short of a blessing. But this title makes me feel. I feel hard. It brings me so much joy, but it’s exhausting. I cry with you, but I laugh too! I know your dogs name, your kids graduation dates, your anniversary, how you tragically lost your best friend, how he sent her flowers and not you. I’ve hugged you, I’ve given you my doctors name, I’ve helped pick your wife’s Christmas gift out, I’ve seen surgery scars, and sat in new cars. The passion I have for people and their well being is intense. I feel. I feel every conversation.
There’s never been one day in my career that I have doubted this path. Although, the ‘why’ changes very often for me. And it’s stories like this beautiful teenage girl that is my why. She sat in my chair looking to me for guidance. Looking to me to help her feel whole again. A fresh start. She wanted to look in the mirror and feel beautiful. She cried. Mom cried. And so did I.
She lost her hair due to an eating disorder caused by her anxiety and depression. Topped with Trichotillomania- A disorder that involves recurrent, irresistible urges to pull out body hair. The journey is long, but after finishing an intense recovery program she’s on the path of staying healed. Together we decided that I would give her the hair she’s been dreaming of for a long time. She wanted the head of hair back that she used to have. A full head of extensions is what I did. She looked in the mirror and smiled. She told me I was her hero. Her mom looked at me and said I haven’t seen this smile in a really long time. She cried....I cried... tears of joy. I feel deep and I do hair. ❤️