No...

The word isn’t in my vocabulary. Especially since making the decision to become a service provider nearly ten years ago. I’ve been the “yes” girl my entire life. It’s easier than causing a conflict for me to give into you and deal with myself later. I don’t know any better. Since moving to Chicago I’ve had this innate feeling that I was alone and felt that if I didn’t take care of myself, no one else would. All of my family and closest friends are on the other side of the country. Of course it’s always been up to me to take care of my life but it got so easy back at home to slip into some comfortable way of being because I was surrounded by everything familiar. With relocating I felt I’d be eaten alive if I didn’t quickly learn that I deserve to take up space on this planet. I’ve always put your needs first. I consider your thoughts and opinions on something before speaking my own, tailoring my own thoughts to suit you. I’ve done this over and over so much that in a lot of ways, I have lost what it is that makes me who I am. In the salon it becomes a whole ‘nother issue. While in Atlanta I let you tell me what you wanted and how you wanted it executed. Never mind I just spent three years, including school, training to do this for a living. You’re the client and you know best right? Not always… When work started at Art+Science I was amazed at how many people went about things their own way. I loved watching how the stylists treated each client. There is no set formula, just what works for the head of hair sitting in the chair at that moment. Sometimes clients are cut dry before being shampooed and styled. Sometimes they are shampooed, cut, blown dry, rinsed again and air dried to achieve the final look, then sometimes, it’s simply, shampoo, cut and blow dry. I am extraordinarily regimented in my approach to my clients. It’s how I was previously taught and I never strayed from that. Here, my mind was opened to all sorts of possibilities and I couldn’t wait to get in there and “feel” what it was like to try something new. I have been told many times that I need to take control of the consultations I have with my clients. I need to be confident and decisive each step of the way. I feel like I’m getting life lessons at the same time when receiving these instructions. I can apply these principles outside of work. I feel like a toddler learning to walk for the first time. The growing pains are excruciating and blinding at times but I’m slowly beginning to “get it”. I feared Evanston because it reminded me so much of being on the floor for the first time in Atlanta. My mom reminds me that I didn’t learn all I needed to learn there and am being given another chance to make it right in Chicago. I couldn’t agree more. I don’t want to screw myself over anymore. On my last model day, my last client was a guy. When I was paged to be told he was here I checked the computer to make sure I had his name correct. I then saw it had changed and was a girl’s name sharing the same last name as the guy. I walk out to see what’s going on. A woman and her two kids are sitting on the bench when I emerge from the break room. I introduce myself to her and she introduces me to her daughter. (We’ll call her Sarah.) She is absolutely stunning with thick black hair halfway down her back, huge brown eyes, and perfect skin. She and her mom follow me to my station. Her mom sits next to us and we both listen while Sarah tells me what she wants. “My hair is naturally curly. I straighten it most of the time. I just want an inch off the bottom and I want more layers around my face.” I nod. “Where do you want your shortest layer to be?” She points to a couple of inches below her chin. I ask her several more questions before deciding that I’m going to cut her dry then shampoo her and blow dry her because she’s straightened her hair so well herself that her roots are smooth enough to where I don’t feel anything will bounce up or look crazy if I go this route. I explain this and she seems ok with it. Her mom says nothing. I excuse myself, run my plan by my educator, Melanie while she’s shampooing her client, and walk back to my station. “Um, I don’t think what you’re going to do is a good idea.” Sarah’s mom pipes up. I nod, silently reminding myself that I am in control, and I can handle this.” “Ok, tell me why.” “Well…” she begins and explains her thoughts but it makes no sense to me. I can’t even remember what it was because I didn’t understand her reasoning. “The reason why I’m doing it this way is because she did such a good job straightening it and usually wears it straight. Doing it this way helps me to see exactly what I’m cutting.” I explain and promptly pick up my shears and comb and begin. This chair, this station is my space. I have to remind myself again that I am the one that just trained yet again to do this and by God I’m going to do it! Sarah’s mother says nothing as I’ve already cut my first section of the layers around Sarah’s face. I drag another section over to meet it and cut that one. I do this a third time before her mom stops me again. “I think you just cut that too short. I don’t think that’s where she wanted it.” I calmly take my comb and push my client’s hair away from her face revealing where the end result will be. “This is where she asked me to cut her layers and this is where they are.” I pointed to the space a couple of inches below her chin. Her mom sits back and says nothing while I continue to work suddenly insanely proud of myself. My knees are shaking and I’m able to continue having a conversation with the person in my chair without worrying about what’s going next to me. I know that whatever it is, I will be given the ability to handle it. “Dahling. Are you alright?” Sarah’s mom asks her. “Yes.” “Ok, dahling, I’m going to sit with your brother.” “Ok.” I keep cutting, both of us happily chatting away. Sarah is a wonderful little lady. She’s pleased with her hair once I finish and when I walk her over to her mom thanking her for bringing her in she is also thrilled. “Oh I can tell she’s happy. Thank you so much. It’s beautiful.” She gushes. Her attitude completely changed over the course of an hour. Is this what being assertive does? Establishes a level of respect? Is this what I’ve been missing this whole time?! I’m on cloud nine as I walk out of the salon later that evening. I felt I actually did something for myself. Sure it was mildly challenging but it felt so insanely wonderful to stand my own ground, make a choice, a decision and go with it.