Skip to main content

The Best BFF Ever

 In middle school I met a guy that would become the very best friend I ever had. Only I didn’t realize it at the time. 


Then, there I was … a middle-aged woman trapped in a “job“ where I was disrespected, unheard and unappreciated by my coworkers, manager and owners of the salon I worked for. Don’t get me wrong, I LOVE my career… I was just in the wrong place.


You see, since 2001 I have always been self-employed and at one time I operated two salons with booth renters. In March 2020, one week before the COVID-19 pandemic hit, my salon, The Beauty Shop, burned to the ground. It was devastating. 


With no place to go once things opened back up from quarantine, I was hired at a local “walk in“ salon and was thankful and grateful for it. Most of my clients followed me there and I actually picked up several new ones.


About nine months into my employment things started to change. It was quite obvious that the manager was very partial to the younger stylists there. They were all under the age of 25 and some even fresh out of cosmetology school. Her behavior towards me was definitely not one of leadership but one of control and anger. She often referred to it as “her shop” but it indeed was not. She manipulated every situation to her favor and eventually turned everyone in the shop against me, including the owners who were rarely there and she told them only what she wanted them to know. 


I lost respect for her very quickly and decided that I would not tolerate her behavior towards me. I was miserable. I only talked about these things to one person. My best friend.


After months of seeing me dreading to go into the fiery pits of hell, he texted me to tell me he had an idea. His idea was for us to become business partners and open a salon of our own. In the beginning I was unsure about it. But the encouragement and motivation he poured out on a daily basis to me was what I needed after being discouraged for so long.


So we set out to do just that! He had the means of securing the property and I had the means of securing the business and together we put our skills and talent together to launch the first ever salon/spa in our area! 


As soon as we had our ducks in a row and most of the details worked out I gave notice to my employer. 


I don’t even care that rumors flew. I was so happy just to know that my best friend had enough faith in me that we could do this. And we did! 


I can never, in words thank him enough for being 100% real and transparent as a friend and helping me realize the value of my craft to our small town. 


He is truly the best friend ever in the history of best friends.



Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Mirrored; the Healing in the Hair

  Mirrored; the Healing in the Hair.   Behind the Chair, Through the Fire: Why We Never Walk Away Most people see a hair appointment as a luxury—a routine hour of pampering. But for those of us behind the chair, that chair is a sacred space, and the appointment book is a lifeline. I’ve spent my career navigating a whirlwind of personal trauma that would have leveled most. I’ve survived a fire and a flood. I’ve endured the terror of domestic violence and the fight of my life against cancer. I’ve navigated the complex grief of losing my children’s father and the transitions of three marriages. Through every surgery, every tear, and every disaster, there was one constant: I showed up for my clients. The Silent Toll : A Body in Service. What my clients don't always see is the physical price of that commitment. In this industry, we are our own health hazards. I have stood behind that chair while battling the widespread, invisible fires of fibromyalgia and arthritis.  I’ve work...

✨ The Rooms That Remember✨

I have stood through many winters, but Christmas has always been my favorite season—because that’s when I came alive. I remember the 1970s first, when the walls were young and so were you. Three sisters, one brother, Mom, Dad, and Grandmother—all of you packed inside me like laughter in a gift box waiting to burst open. You didn’t have much, not in the way the world measures things, but my floors never felt poor. They felt rich with excitement. On Christmas Eve you children would run circles around me, whispering plans to catch Santa Claus in the act. I watched you wiggle in your blankets, wide-eyed, too excited to sleep. I could almost feel your heartbeat in the quiet hours before dawn. And then—morning. Daylight barely breaking through the curtains before little footsteps raced across my boards. Stockings filled with candy and fruit, gifts being ripped open, squeals of joy bouncing off my walls. Wrapping paper flying, giggles echoing, the smell of breakfast drifting in from the kitch...

Where Time Softens Edges

There’s something about the way time softens edges. When she was younger, she was a loud storm. Strong opinions, sharp words, decisions that didn’t always make sense to the child standing beneath her. I learned to defend myself, to brace myself, to bend, to push back and create my own way of being far from the places I didn’t want her to fit. And somewhere in all of that… distance grew. Not always loud. Not always obvious. But there. Then time did what it always does. It kept moving. The hands that should’ve supported me —now reach for support. The voice that carried authority carries anxiety and grief instead. And the roles begin to blur in a quiet, almost sacred way. Because here’s the truth no one prepares you for: You don’t take care of your parents because they got everything right. You take care of them because they were part of your beginning. Because love isn’t always neat. It doesn’t require agreement or a perfect past. Our past is now history. Sometimes love is simply showing...