You are surrounded in the salon by people. You laugh with them, listen to them, and give your energy to each client in your chair. It is rewarding and exhausting. When your day is done, all you want is some decompression. But silence is so different that it can just seem too much. 

Here's the thing: the one skill nobody taught you wasn't how to cut precisely or blend color formulations. No, it’s how to work with solitude: how to love being in your own company and not feel weird. To sit in silence and find serenity after a full day of being on, watched, pushed, and stressed. 

Surrounded by silence, you tend to make quick decisions to fill up the silence with people who aren't good for you or show up for situations that further drain your spirit. Fear of aloneness guides us to fall into nasty habits. But here’s the rub: solitude isn't the enemy; it's the solution. Bear me out…

If you begin to willingly walk into your alone time, something shifts. You stop looking for people, places, and things to validate your existence. You see aloneness as freedom. You do what you want when you want without explanation. The soda you left on the counter this morning is still there. Nobody messed with it. There’s nobody to answer to. There’s no one coming. I used to be scared of this; now I’m afraid someone might show up.

That being said, loneliness can also be like that cut that went too short: uncomfortable at first. Painful even. That's okay, for growth begins at the edge of pain. Go home. Sit with solitude. Let it speak to you. Let it teach you. Quick fixes that don’t pan out leave you feeling lonelier. People, places, or substances can't fill the void. You are the only one who can. And when you do, you attract the right energy, the right people, and the right opportunities—not out of desperation, but because you are whole on your own. The best version of you is alone. Embrace this.

So tonight, when the last client leaves, resist the urge to run from the quiet. Lean into it. Reconnect with yourself. Master it, and you'll find the freedom—and joy—that makes everything else fall into place.