Grounded in Purpose

Six years.

Six years of:

“Hello, my name is Grace.”

“Is there anything else I can do for you today?”

“I’m getting ready for my next vacation.”

“I’m getting married this year.”

“I had to put my dog down last week.”

“I was diagnosed with cancer yesterday.”

“I’m pregnant.”

“We had a miscarriage.”

“He turns two this month.”

“My sister passed away.”

“My brother passed away.”

“I just really need this today.”

When I signed up for esthetician school, I was beginning a journey of unknowns. It was a time in my life when I had hit a breaking point. I would later learn that this was only the first of many, but at the time, it felt unbearable.

I had worked hard for good grades throughout high school. Academic success didn’t come naturally to me—I had to fight for it. I had spent my whole life trying to prove I was smart. I worked tirelessly for good grades, always feeling like I had something to prove—even if I wasn’t sure what.

I’ve always had a curious mind, which led me to aspire to be a scientist. Those aspirations carried me all the way to college, where I majored in biology. But after just one semester, I realized that sometimes, “faking it till you make it” just doesn’t cut it. I was chasing a version of myself that never really existed—the one who could do it all.

I felt more lost than ever. It didn’t matter how badly I wanted it—the passion just wasn’t there. So, I packed my bags, went home, and crumbled into my mom’s arms. She, as always, held me without judgment and helped me see the pressure I constantly placed on myself was unnecessary.

What was I trying to prove? I couldn’t even answer that.

All I knew was that I wanted to make people feel good—because deep down, I wanted to feel good.

At the time, I was spending hours practicing makeup, whether on myself or friends. I loved how I could make people feel good about themselves, loving the way they lit up when they looked in the mirror. It clicked for me. I realized my love language had always been acts of service—modeled by my mom, who spent her life serving with selfless, unwavering love.

One day, she called and asked, “Hey! Do you know what an esthetician is?”

I had no clue. But soon enough, she had me booking a facial at a local spa. I remember lying on the table, amazed by how relaxed and refreshed I felt afterward. The woman performing the service radiated warmth and kindness, and I thought, I want to help people feel exactly like this.

So naturally, I was attending esthetics school the next month.

Haha—just kidding. There was nothing natural about that leap.

Nonetheless, the following month, I really did move out to Rapid City and started the program without knowing much else about the industry. The program was only five months, but those five months would change my life forever.

Of course, I learned the technical skills of being an esthetician, but I also gained so much more. I never realized how much science could be incorporated into this field, or how much empathy and personal connection it required. I’ve always been shy, but working with people in this intimate setting showed me that I genuinely enjoy human connection—just not in the same way most extroverts do. The one-on-one interactions with clients brought out a new side of me, one I didn’t know existed.

Graduation came in the blink of an eye, and soon enough, I was job hunting. My first job was booth renting at a salon in my hometown—a move that my instructors and industry professionals highly discouraged. Now, as a professional myself, I understand why. I had no clientele and very little experience.

Yet, I’ve never felt more in the right place.

Friends and past acquaintances from high school started booking appointments with me. Since I wasn’t fully booked, I had the chance to focus on educating my clients. I also learned the ropes of professional customer service. I loved every second of it. My dreams grew bigger and bolder.

After about eight months, I felt like I was finally beginning to understand skin on a deeper level. I craved more knowledge, but I knew my resources were limited. I needed to make a change if I wanted to continue growing. So, I applied for a position at a brand-new salon opening in Brookings, South Dakota.

I was nervous—but for the first time in my life, I was also confident.

I applied my growing knowledge of science and beauty, and the spa owner recognized the passion I had for it. She took a chance on me, and her faith in me made me feel so capable.

In March 2020, I started at Blu Salon and Spa. Of course, as we all know, 2020 was a year of hell for most people. Just a week after I started, all non-essential businesses were ordered to close due to the pandemic.

Since I had been self-employed before this job, navigating unemployment was especially difficult. It was a trying time for everyone, including the spa owner. During the closure, I spent hours taking online education courses and even made some videos about the skincare brand we used. We kept looking for the brighter side of life—and we made it through.

Soon enough, we were back to work, though my schedule was still pretty empty. Yet, despite the slow return, I was making more money than I ever had before. At just 19 years old, I was the youngest employee at the spa, and I felt like I had so much to prove.

One client referral after another, I slowly built a loyal clientele. Eventually, I was performing facials for eight hours a day in the back room. I thrived on the positive feedback—the perfectionist in me was in heaven.

For three and a half years, I was caught in this cycle—thousands of clients, countless transformations. By the time I was 22, I felt (and probably acted) like I was 32. I had accomplished so much in such a short time, yet the perfectionist in me still wasn’t satisfied.

So, of course, it was time for more.

For me, “more” meant returning to self-employment. It was a bittersweet decision. After nearly four years with the same clients, coworkers, and familiar faces, leaving wasn’t easy.

But I knew it was time.

You all know the story of starting my own business. And if you don’t, I’ve posted about it in a previous blog. What most don’t know—and probably won’t ever know unless they’ve also pursued entrepreneurship—is the anxiety and pressure that comes along with this journey.

As a woman trying to make her mark in the world, I continuously doubt myself. I miss the younger ignorance I once had—the complete, unwavering confidence in my abilities. Back then, I didn’t question if I was good enough. I simply was. Now, some days I feel on top of the world, and other days, I wonder if I even know anything at all. Honestly, sometimes it just takes one setback with an acne client to push me over the edge.

I’m more scared than I used to be—which could just mean I have more at stake. It’s a good problem to have, but it doesn’t weigh on me any less. Staying grounded is hard in the constant rush of needing to stay ahead of the next best thing. Do I expand? Do I add more? Do I stay content? Is there a right answer? These questions mean I’m growing and learning. More opportunities are arising.

But with growth comes a heavier load. I see others in my industry admitting to burnout. The constant leveling up and striving for perfection takes its toll. I’d be lying if I said there weren’t days I wanted to throw in the towel and find a simple 9-5 job. But that’s never been me. I would miss the human connection—the very thing that has carried me through the hardest seasons of my life.

You see, over the last six years, my career has been about people. More than anything, my goal has been to make people feel good. And through thousands of services, I’ve learned that feeling good looks different for everyone. Some clients come in and hardly say a word, craving quiet, while others talk the entire hour, filling the room with their stories. Some carry the weight of unimaginable grief, while others simply need a momentary escape from the everyday stress of life.

And some days, matching that energy is tough.

Just like anyone else, I’ve battled my own mental health. There are mornings when getting out of bed feels like a fight. Days when starting the first conversation takes everything in me because my own mind is too heavy. Because let’s be honest—life can be plain exhausting. And I’m well aware mine isn’t unique in that sense. But oddly enough, I find peace in that exact fact.

Life is hard—and difficult times don’t discriminate, even against the kindest, most deserving souls. I see it every day. I have clients dealing with unruly children, overwhelming jobs, or suffocating coursework. I’ve worked on grieving mothers whose children died at birth or twenty years later from suicide or a car crash. I’ve held the hands of women battling cancer, feeling both heartbroken and honored as they trust me with their vulnerability. I’ve comforted teenagers, sharing their struggles with bullying or self-doubt.

And one of the most beautifully human things about what I do is that I get to physically care for people. I touch their skin—the part of them that carries their whole story. From preteen acne and sunburned noses, to moms with fine lines around their eyes from both smiling and crying, to elderly women with skin etched with decades of highs and lows—every face tells a tale. And most of the time, it’s not until I ask a few extra questions that I learn what their skin has carried them through.

And then, during the service, I get to witness their release. When I reach the part of the facial where I massage their arms, shoulders, and face, I always hear it—the long, slow sighs of relief escaping their lungs. Most don’t even realize they do it. I can feel the tension draining from their bodies. For that one hour, they get to be in a space free of judgment, free of stress. They can be whoever they want—or no one at all.

And while they’re breathing through their sighs of relief, I find myself breathing, too.

Because it never fails—when I’m having a hard day, I get a client who shows me love, grace, and compassion. They remind me why I do what I do. It’s women supporting women. It’s crying together over a heartbreaking diagnosis. It’s laughing over a silly boy story. It’s empathizing with each other through uncertain economic changes and societal disturbances.

And that—that right there—is why, after six years of ups and downs, I’m ready to take on 20 more. Women are a force of strength, and this industry has shown me just how vital human connection and empathy are for us to thrive together.

In this next chapter of my life, I’m embracing the little moments. Because if I’ve learned anything from sitting across from thousands of people, it’s that we’re not guaranteed the big moments. The proposals, the promotions, the new homes—they come and go. But it’s the small moments that linger.

It’s the sleepy look in my clients’ eyes when they walk up front after a relaxing service and thank me with a soft smile.

It’s the comfort of sitting with my best friend, listening to her vent, knowing she trusts me with her rawest thoughts.

It’s the warmth I feel when I ask my coffee barista how her day is going and see her smile—because no one has asked her yet.

These are the moments that stick. The ones that matter. And once I started getting the little moments right, I realized the big ones came with more ease.

So, I’m soaking up every fleeting second of happiness. I’m giving what I can, in my own way. Because if there’s one thing this career—and this life—has taught me, it’s that love and joy can’t be bought. But they can be shared.

And when you do, you’ll find yourself smiling just a little more—I know I do.

The Start

Boy, oh boy, has it been a whirlwind of my first year in business. From starting my solo adventure in August of last year to switching business locations exactly one year later, it’s been quite the ride. Somewhere in between that, life and my career kept on happening. Let me just say, even when you’re yelling at life to please be gentle with you or asking for a steady course for once, it usually has a mind of its own. I’m continually reminded that sometimes you have to let go of the steering wheel and let life take you where it wants to go—not where YOU want it to go. And for a Type A control freak like me, that mindset is far from easy.

I want to take you all through my journey and thought process of opening my own business. Sometimes it’s easier to sugarcoat the not-so-fun details and present a picture-perfect life, especially through social media. But that’s not how I want anyone to view me. I strive to be as real as possible, and being real means sharing the struggles just as much as the triumphs. So, welcome to the first entry of a blog from a 24-year-old esthetician and business owner.

In August of last year, I felt a calling deep in my heart that it was time for a transition within my career. I’d spent the last four years soaking in as much knowledge as I could to better educate my clients and provide meaningful results. I put in countless hours of hands-on practice, and to all the OG clients who trusted me during those early stages, I can’t thank you enough. I firmly believe that in order to build confidence in a skill, you have to practice it, over and over again. That’s exactly what I did—and it fueled a burning passion in me to help others feel even just a little better than they did before they walked through my door. So, I signed a lease on an empty garage studio and got to work.

The initial stages of dreaming are always exciting. You envision how things are going to pan out, picture how everything will look and feel. But the reality of getting to that point, well, it usually sucks. A lot. Then, when you finally reach what you could’ve only dreamed of a year ago, more dreams pop into your head, fueling the cycle. But for now, let’s stick with the first dream that started it all.

I knew I wanted my own space. I wanted my clients to walk in and feel like it was just a hangout session with a friend, not a formal in-out appointment. I wanted to customize my services to each individual because every person is unique. What works for one might not work for another. I wanted to offer results while still providing relaxation, believing that the two can coexist in one service.

So, I started crafting a service menu that reflected this vision. It also needed to showcase my dedication to education and the time I spent perfecting my craft. I decided to take on the role of website designer, only to quickly realize that I’m definitely not a website designer. It would take me hours to type even one thing into the fancy website designing tool I paid for, adding yet another expense to the never-ending list of costs that come with starting a business. However, the best part of surrounding yourself with talented people is knowing someone for every job you may need help with. So with that in mind, I tapped my sister to take over the website design. Soon, not only did I have a fully functional website, but a beautiful logo as well, designed by someone I love and admire.

Next came all the licensing. I had to make The Skin Studio official, so I registered it as an LLC, filed for my EIN number, and applied for my sales tax and salon licenses, which, surprisingly, turned out to be the easiest part of it all. Now, I was truly official. It all started to feel real.

While working on the official documents, I was also prepping my physical location. This meant lots of painting. I’d get off work and immediately head to the studio to roll coat after coat of primer and paint on the walls. Many nights, I would work into the early morning before calling it a day, only to wash out the brushes and trudge home with paint-covered skin and hair. Then, I’d wake up early to do it all again. Along the way, friends pitched in to help—they picked up paintbrushes, built furniture, and even hung ridiculous curtains from the tallest ceilings because I was too broke to hire professionals to build walls. With every sigh of exhaustion, I knew I was one step closer to making my dream a reality. Sure enough, one month later, I had enough finishing touches done to officially open The Skin Studio.

One month may not seem like much time to launch an entirely new business, but sometimes opportunities come knocking faster than you expect. Knowing I had an army of people supporting and cheering me on gave me the confidence to take the leap and push forward.

In the beginning, my goal was simple: I just wanted to cover my house mortgage and studio rent. But with the incredible support from clients and the recommendations from friends, I was able to do just that—and more. The love and support I’ve received has been overwhelming. I’m so grateful to everyone who booked an appointment, referred a friend, or has liked and shared a post. I literally owe the success of this dream to each and every one of you.

And so, the journey continues. I can’t wait to share more of my story as I grow, learn, and face new challenges. Thank you for being part of this adventure—this is just the beginning.