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Mirrored; the Healing in the Hair

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 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 worked through the grinding reality of work-related injuries: chronic neck, back, and shoulder pain that radiates through every snip of the scissors. I’ve stood on aching hips and feet for ten hours a day, pushing through the exhaustion because I refuse to let someone down.


Why We Push Through the Pain

People often ask me, "How did you keep going? Why didn't you just stay home?" The answer is a blend of duty, heart, and a bit of stubbornness:

• The Weight of Disappointment: As hairdressers, we have a deep-seated "show must go on" mentality. We know you are preparing for a wedding, a job interview, or even a funeral. To cancel on you feels like abandoning you in a key moment of your life.

• The Salon as a Sanctuary: When my own life felt like it was burning down—sometimes literally—the salon was the one place I had control. Focusing on the 45°, 90° or 180° elevation of a haircut or the chemistry of a color allowed my mind to rest from my own tragedies.

• The Human Connection: I have held your secrets while I held your head in my hands at the shampoo bowl. I’ve shown up with a smile even when I was wearing a brace under my apron or nursing a post-surgical scar. That commitment stems from a place of deep empathy—because I know what it’s like to need to feel seen and cared for when the world is heavy.


A Labor of Love

Although my children are grown now, several of those fires have been put out, but aging has crept in over the years with an agenda of its own. But the drive to serve remains. It was never "just a job." It was a realization that we are all carrying something—whether it’s a broken heart, a diagnosis, or a tired body.


If I can make your burden feel a little lighter by making you feel beautiful, then every surgery, every ache, and every struggle was worth the strength it took to stand back up. And always will. 


To my clients: Thank you for being the reason I kept standing, even when it hurt to do so. My healing has always been your hair. 

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