What I’ve Learned From the Hair at My Chair
There’s something sacred about the salon chair. It’s not just where we style hair—it’s where we hold space. Over the years, I’ve come to understand that hair is never just hair. It’s history. It’s emotion. It’s identity. And sometimes, it’s a symbol of everything a person is ready to release or reclaim.
I’ve had the deep honor of witnessing people in their most vulnerable, transformative moments—from quiet grief to radiant joy. And through these experiences, I’ve learned lessons that no hair school or beauty textbook could ever teach me.
Here are a few of those stories.
✂️ The Woman Who Cut Her Hair After Divorce
She sat in my chair with tired eyes and a brave smile. “I want it short,” she said. “Like… really short.” There was hesitation in her voice—but also something fierce, something ready.
As I made the first cut, tears welled up in her eyes. “I’m letting go,” she whispered.
That day wasn’t about a new style. It was about shedding years of heaviness—hair that had absorbed every unspoken compromise. When she looked in the mirror afterward, she didn’t just look different. She felt different. Lighter. Clearer.
She taught me that hair can be a form of release—an act of reclaiming your voice.
💫 The Cancer Survivor Who Embraced Her Curls
After chemo, her hair grew back in tight, beautiful waves—so different from the straight strands she once knew. “It doesn’t feel like me,” she said, softly tugging at her curls.
But as we talked and worked through styles, something shifted. “Maybe this is the new me,” she said with a half-smile. “Maybe this version of me is stronger.”
We created a shape that celebrated the texture she had now. She walked out not just styled, but seen. That day, she reminded me: beauty isn’t about returning to what was. It’s about honoring who we’ve become.
🌿 The Client Who Chose to Go Gray
She came in every six weeks like clockwork—covering grays, chasing the illusion of “youth.” One day she said, “I think I’m done. I want to stop hiding.”
We created a transition plan that allowed her natural silver to grow in gracefully. As her grays became more visible, so did her confidence. “I feel free,” she said during one appointment. “I’m not chasing a version of myself anymore. I’m just… me.”
She reminded me that aging is not something to fight—it’s something to honor.
🧘♀️ The Burnout Survivor Who Needed a Pause
She booked a haircut with the note: “I’m going through a lot.”
When she arrived, I offered tea, silence, and space. No small talk. Just presence. She closed her eyes as I massaged her scalp with grounding oils (Palo Santo, a favorite for calming rituals), and for the first time in a while, she exhaled.
“I just needed someone to care for me without asking anything back,” she said.
She reminded me that even a simple haircut can be a healing act—when it’s given with intention.
💗 What These Stories Have Taught Me
Hair is deeply personal. It holds our memories, our energy, our identity. But more than anything, it reveals our humanity.
I’ve learned that behind every request—every bang trim, root touch-up, or bold transformation—is a story. And my job isn’t just to cut or style. It’s to listen. To witness. To hold space.
In a world that often demands constant productivity and perfection, the salon chair can be one of the few places where people pause. Reflect. Reclaim themselves.
That’s the kind of beauty I believe in—beauty that’s connected, conscious, and real.
If you’ve ever sat in my chair and shared your story—thank you. You’ve shaped me as much as I’ve shaped your hair.
And if you're in a season of change, know this: whether you're growing something out or letting something go, I see you. You’re exactly where you need to be.
XO Jen
