When I was a salon assistant in the late 90’s, I drove to work every day hating my job. In the winter when I made a fist, my knuckles would crack and bleed from doing shampoos.

High end salon life was not what I expected, but when I left college for cosmetology school my dad said, “don’t be a quitter” so I stuck it out.

I ended up loving that salon, and if I had quit I would not be the stylist I am today. 

Around the year 2000, majority ownership changed hands. Soon the stylists and owners from Chicago came less, and local stylists started leaving too. I was close to two stylists who had already left for a small salon on West Plaza. They told me there was one chair left. If I wanted it, I needed to act fast.

I hesitated.  

Another stylist that had already left didn’t like her new salon, and she took the last chair. 

Life Inventory

A few days later I sat alone on a bench in the upstairs cutting gallery. All 8 chairs were empty. There were 15 more downstairs in the cutting department where a few stylists were working spread out.

People think a salon’s success is based on how “busy” it looks, which is not true, but even then I understood overhead in a business. Once in the office, I saw a monthly rent statement. It was double what I made in a year so it felt like a sinking ship.

Blankly, I stared at the tennis courts across the street and took my first life inventory.  

A few years earlier my parents had moved our family construction business to Springfield. My sister soon followed.

My best friends from high school were graduating college and starting jobs during the dot com era.

Some took a gap year to backpack through Europe. 

Now my salon friends had moved on too. 

I was 23.

I felt very alone, and I was filled with self doubt about myself and my future.  

Security

I thought to myself:

“I left college behind because I didn’t want the stress of construction.

I wanted autonomy, my own career, and my own security-but my job feels insecure.”

So I started stashing tips and 15% of my paycheck, in case I’d be jobless. A few months later I was digging in the Sunday paper and saw an ad for a loft on 39th street. I had $2400 in my mason jar.

Did I want to own a salon? Not really, but I did not want the feeling of my an uncertain future either. 

Which was naive, there are no certainties with anything.

But three days later I was walking through a loft space over a deli in midtown.

My inner monologue was in a debate.

The side I often ignored said “this is not the plan, we’re not doing this”.

The other side said “nothing worth having comes easy”.

I saw a fork in my road with two very different paths, both with many unknowns.

I flipped my brain off, and asked the realtor “can I have a moment to walk through the space alone?” 

He looked at me funny, but said yes. 

I took a few breaths, looked around, and took another inventory.

The steep stairway sucked.

The bus stop outside the front door was super sketch… but I could see myself there.

Little did I know…

That day sitting on the bench I asked myself…

 “Why didn’t I go with my friends to that salon?”  

“Why did I leave college for hair school, I’d have a project management degree now?”  

“Why didn’t I just stay with my parents and work for them?”  

At 23 I didn’t know the human brain does not fully develop and mature until age 25.

But I knew the answer why. 

None of that felt right for me

Little did I know sitting on that bench…

Within 3 years the salon I was sitting in and  the salon where my friends went to work -would both be closed. 

Little did I know the dot.com bubble had already begun to burst.

Little did I know, a mortgage crash would soon follow…

Starting a 10 year recession that would pull down construction with it. 

And little did I know…I was in a fairly resilient industry. 

Growing up fast.

In a way I gave up a big part of my youth for her, but she’s also been my life preserver (and others) many times. 

I just knew I loved that space, and I loved doing hair-so I followed my heart.

Later, “making it” in life would change meaning many times.

Later, I would learn following your heart means sometimes you will break it.

But I didn’t know any of that yet…

I just knew I wasn’t a quitter. 

The choices we make. 

Any small business owner knows it’s difficult to emotionally detach when making hard choices.

Especially a business that invests in people.

A business takes on a life of its own, it can be both energizing and tiring. 

In 2015 I read my old salon owner bought back majority shares of his company at 70% LESS than what he’d sold for in the early 2000’s.

Saaavy!🔥

But what’s funny is at 23 years old his wise business decision made me ponder life on his bench.

Now I realize how difficult that must have been for him, but I was a kid- so I only thought about how it affected me.

But that time in my life shaped a belief system I still carry and teach today.

• Don’t let self-doubt define you.
• You’re always one choice away from a different life.
• Sometimes different is what we need, even if it is not what we want.
• I didn’t know at a young age I stopped listening to the grown ups in the room, to listen to my intuition.
•  Now, if it says wait or go-I listen. 
• Humans hate change because change comes with sacrifice and the unknown. 
• If you are not willing to give up something for the life you’re meant for, the universe decides for you.
• Blind faith requires a bold courage few have, but those are the people to surround yourself with.
  

I never planned on being a salon owner, I just wanted job security.

I never tried to grow the salon, I just filled the needs of the business when I saw them…

But I wish I knew what happened to that bench.

Little did I know, I was exactly where I was supposed to be.