From an early age, I faced a mass of messages that told me I shouldn’t feel good about myself. It started in kindergarten, a tender age when the world should have felt warm and welcoming.

Yet there I was, standing in front of my teacher, confusion swirling in my mind. I had just spelled my name wrong, apparently. The teacher’s words rang in my ears like a judgment bell. “We’ll have to call your father,” she said sharply, her disappointment visible.

When my dad answered the phone, his response was only further confirmation of my failure. “You need to listen to your teacher,” he said, and I nodded silently, my self-esteem already fragile.

That day, I slumped back to my desk, a weight settling on my small shoulders. Each day that followed, the echo of that moment haunted me, feeding doubts as I trudged through elementary and middle school.

I often felt miserable, retreating to the porch of our house, the only sanctuary where I believed I could escape the buzzing noise of self-doubt rattling around my head.

But even there, in that quiet refuge, the weight didn’t fully lift.

The trees swayed gently, but inside, I felt trapped in a storm. I searched for peace and validation outside of myself—through my family, my teachers, my peers—but nothing seemed to truly fill the void within. I thought that if I could just meet their expectations, then I’d feel whole.

Yet, as I dwelled on that past moment, replaying it over and over, I realized how much power I had given it. That one mistake had become a symbol of my inadequacy, a moment that defined me in ways it never should have. Dwelling on it, along with other moments of perceived failure, held me back from truly moving forward. It was on that porch that something remarkable happened—a spark of light in the darkness. One day, as I closed my eyes to pray and meditate, a soft but powerful whisper floated to me from the depths of my heart. “Embrace yourself,” it said. “It is time to love who you are.” It was a dawning realization, an intuitive spark igniting the darkness that had clouded my mind for so long.

But even as this light began to shine, life continued to weigh heavily on me. The habit of relying on external validation had been deeply ingrained, and I often found myself looking outward for approval and acceptance. No matter how much praise I received for my hairstyling or how much I achieved, I felt an emptiness inside that no amount of external success could fill. My love for the craft was strong, but my energy was fleeting. I found myself working long hours in the salon, pouring every bit of creativity I had into my clients, yet feeling drained afterward. It was as if my soul was split—half of me bursting with excitement to create, while the other half struggled to find the energy and affirmation I so desperately sought from others.

I realized that my tendency to dwell on the past was holding me back. Each time I replayed a moment of failure or doubt, I added weight to the chains that bound me. I was letting those moments define my worth, instead of seeing them for what they were—just moments. They didn’t have to dictate my future. Yet, letting go of the past wasn’t easy. The comfort of familiar pain often seemed preferable to the uncertainty of moving forward. But I knew that in order to truly embrace myself, I had to release the grip those memories had on me.

As I grew older, my environment began to shift just enough to lead me to a new understanding. My mom and other family members were talented stylists; hair was not just their art—it was their passion. Watching them with scissors in hand, I felt a love for hairstyling emerge within me. I would sneak into their world, practicing little braids and playful cuts on my dolls, my confidence inching upwards with every twist and turn.

This newfound connection deepened when I returned to my sacred porch for a moment of reflection. Again, I prayed, and again, a message came. “You are meant for more than this doubt,” it echoed through me. “It’s time to pursue what you love, what you are good at.” The photo of a future in cosmetology school unfolded in my mind, vivid and bright, filled with colors and creativity. Even at the tender age of 14, I felt a certainty wash over me as I envisioned myself styling hair—a distant world now feeling close to my reality.

Instead of suppressing my feelings, I chose to embrace them. Slowly, I began to express my passion. I took every opportunity to style my friends’ hair, their laughter and joy giving me affirmation I had long yearned for. I practiced every day, mining self-love from each snip of my scissors and every twirl of my brush. But despite this joy, I often felt depleted. Relying on external factors for validation left me in a constant state of seeking—seeking approval, seeking praise, seeking something outside myself to prove that I was enough.

And then the floodgates opened. With every bit of courage I summoned, I made the leap into cosmetology school, welcoming the challenges and celebrating the triumphs along the way. I found mentors who nurtured my spirit, teachings that encouraged my craft, and a community that lifted me up. Even though the energy was scarce and the shadows of self-doubt often loomed nearby, I learned to push through, driven by my passion and the desire to make others feel beautiful. It was a delicate balance—learning to appreciate the external validation while also trying to cultivate an inner sense of worth that wasn’t dependent on it.

Years later, I stand at the helm of my own salon, a sanctuary of beauty and empowerment, a place where others can explore their creativity and embrace themselves too. My heart is full of hope, but I also know that the journey is ongoing. I still wrestle with the need for external validation from time to time, and the memories of past struggles still try to creep in. But I’m learning to rely more on the internal voice that tells me I am enough, just as I am. I strive to teach everyone who walks through my door to listen to their inner guidance, just as I learned to. I want them to feel the beauty of self-acceptance, not just from the compliments they receive, but from the love they cultivate within themselves.

“Feel good about yourself,” I tell them, watching their eyes light up with understanding. “You are more than the doubts that linger. You have the power to create your own happiness.” And yet, I know that in the quiet moments after everyone has left, there is still a part of me that needs to find that same peace and energy within myself—without relying on the opinions of others or the echoes of the past.

This journey hasn’t been easy, and the energy it takes to run a salon, nurture clients, and keep up with the ever-evolving beauty industry is immense. Some days, I wonder if I have enough left to give. But then, I remember that little voice from all those years ago, the one that told me to embrace myself. I remember that this path is mine, and that each step forward, no matter how tired or low I may feel, is a testament to the love I have for this art.

As my clients leave the salon, I hope that they carry a piece of that porch wisdom with them: that your true self is waiting, eager to be embraced, just beyond the worries of the world. And I hold onto the hope that, with a little more light, a little more energy, and a lot of self-compassion, I can continue to create a space where everyone—including myself—can feel beautiful, loved, and empowered, not because of what others say, but because of the love they find within themselves, free from the shadows of the past.