Behind the Chair
Updated: Sep 21, 2021
I have the natural ability to highlight a woman’s features beautifully with makeup. I can take hair that is unhealthy and undone and make it sleek, refined and healthy. Watching a woman’s disposition change after a transformation excites me.
Her back would extend straight up in a confident manner. Her eyes would began to glare and her smile would light up the space. When she felt beautiful, I knew I had done my job.
For years I was content with her outer beauty making sure no hair was out of place. As a makeup artist I saw women as a blank canvas to create whatever I wanted... Until the Lord nudged my heart to delve deeper.
In 2014 my passion for women went beyond just hair and makeup. My work is deep. It’s sensitive. It’s healing. It’s through the physical contact of the scalp and skin that trust and vulnerability takes place. The salon is a place where women can lay it all out. It’s a safe haven to vent, scream, cuss, cry and sometimes to just sit. In silence.
Doing what I do, has allowed me to see true beauty in humanity. Most importantly, it‘s allowed me to see myself. The good, the bad, and the ugly. When I saw my ugly, it was moments of dialogue I realized that each lady who sat in my chair was no different from me. I connected and built unforgettable relationships with many women I touched. I’m so grateful for that.
As we would share struggles and life lessons I felt less and less alone and more understood. I grew in the areas of empathy and compassion.
The salon for me became cathartic. The more dialogue I had with a woman the more I begin to understand and accept myself. I started to see that everything I had overcame made me who I am today.
I would dare to say that what we all share in that intimate place, therapists and doctors wouldn’t even know. It is a privilege to serve.
There are 3 things I learned about women behind the chair:
1.) We are BRAVE even in our BROKENNESS
The trauma, the heartbreak, the dark moments and dry seasons make us reach down deep and find courage to face the inevitable. We still raise our babies alone, we