Five years ago, I opened the doors of olive + elm with a dream. Little did I know that dream would be tested by some of the hardest challenges life could offer. Every salon, every small business, has its hurdles, but our journey has been a relentless series of trials, each one demanding that I dig a little deeper, stand a little taller, and become someone stronger. Today, as we celebrate our 5-year anniversary, I’m reflecting on every obstacle thrown my way—and every reason I’m still here.
A Journey Through Unexpected Storms
Two months after olive + elm opened, my 3-year-old son, Oliver was diagnosed with chronic kidney disease. Overnight, our family was thrust into a world of hospital stays and specialist visits, and my world became an emotional and logistical balancing act. Some might assume that having a team means your business will carry on, even when you’re away—but my absence was an opportunity that some seized in all the wrong ways. I had to make the difficult choice to say goodbye to those who couldn’t respect the trust I placed in them.
Then, as if things couldn’t get harder, the COVID-19 pandemic arrived. I brought on a new team full of hope and enthusiasm, only to face a lockdown. When restrictions lifted, my expectations for professionalism and dedication were seen as being "too strict”, even though we were thriving while other salons had to close their doors. This idea that I was the “bad guy” for setting standards and holding strong to the values of olive + elm led several team members to move on, but I was determined to keep going, even if it meant starting from scratch again. Because I was still here.
Building, Losing, and Building Again
Over the years, I’ve poured everything I have into olive + elm. I’ve offered mentorship, shared every resource and strategy I’ve collected in my decades-long career, and poured my heart into creating a space where stylists could thrive. I fought to keep us afloat, even as I watched some team members walk away or feel resentment for the sacrifices I made just to keep the lights on. I took out loans, went months without a paycheck, sold our home and moved to an apartment to cut costs and made tough calls that left me labeled as “the bad guy” more times than I can count.
Even while grappling with these challenges, personal heartaches only deepened. My father was diagnosed with terminal pancreatic cancer, and I spent as much time as possible with him in his last days. He passed away after a year of fighting, just two days before our salons third anniversary. Losing him was a blow I still feel every day, but even through that grief, I was still here. I prepared everyone for my absence while I dealt with what to this day is the worst pain I have ever felt. When I returned from the heavy fog of grief and everything that comes with it, I was ready to come back and work hard again for my team and my sanity.
A Battle on New Fronts
As my father’s illness unfolded, my own health took a turn. Diagnosed with multiple sclerosis, I faced a steady decline in my strength, especially in my limbs. My balance and mobility became compromised, and eventually, it affected my ability to even perform hair services. I had to make the painful decision to stop working on clients, losing that hands-on connection I’d loved for so long.
The mental toll has been heavy. Depression, anxiety, and anger have started to feel like permanent residents in my mind. The fear and uncertainty about my future have left me feeling lost, and there are days when the weight of it all feels unbearable. I grapple with thoughts that frighten me. I struggle with the despair of watching my body change, of wondering how much longer I can keep going. And yet, every time I feel like I can’t take another step, I think of my family, my clients, and this industry I love. I choose to keep fighting. Because I am still here.
The MS journey has been heartbreaking, exhausting, and humbling. Medical professionals have sometimes met me with dismissal instead of compassion, leaving me to navigate this condition largely alone, with the horrors of the internet to guide me. My days are filled with pain and frustration, but I have hope. While there is no cure for MS, I can spend time getting strong again by teaching my muscles to do what I say, not what the disease says. I refuse to let this take my purpose. I have fought too long and too hard and I am determined to keep fighting for everything that matters to me.
The New olive + elm
This anniversary is different. As I step into year five, I’m finally embracing the “bad guy” label, though I’d reframe it as “tough love”. I’ve seen what happens when expectations are unclear, and this time, olive + elm will thrive with clarity and strength. Moving forward, we are a salon with firm standards for professionalism, teamwork, and a positive, respectful environment. All team members will always know I am grateful for them, and I am always here even if I physically can’t be some days. So they must have the confidence to just ask when they need help. They will know I can’t always hold their hand, but I can give them all my knowledge and resources I have collected after 27 years in the industry. They will be responsible for how they use that knowledge. They will know I’m doing my best to take care of them so they can grow but they already have a mom and it's not me.
This year, we’re marking this fresh start with a spiritual cleansing! My sister, a long-time devout Wiccan, will smudge and bless the space, sweeping out any lingering negative energy and welcoming a new beginning.
I may not be behind the chair anymore, but I am still here—leading, learning, and redefining my role every day. My health journey has changed what I can physically do, but it hasn’t dimmed my passion. I am still fighting for this business and the people who believe in it. I am still here, ready to make this year one of transformation and growth.
So here’s to year five. To every lesson, every challenge, and every small victory. Here’s to the strength to keep going, even when the world calls you the “bad guy.” And here’s to all of you—our clients, our supporters, and those who believe in olive + elm. Thank you for being part of this journey.
Because someone always has to be the bad guy.
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