Roots and Revelations...A Love Story!

Today my hair is less blonde, more orange, a hint of gold, some gray and some dark roots…And that got me thinking…

My hair's journey is more than just a record of styles and cuts—it's a tapestry of life shared with the most important man in my life, my 87-year-old father, who also happens to be my hairdresser. He's the only one who's ever cut and colored my hair, and what makes each session so special isn't always the outcome—a hit-or-miss dance of scissors that sometimes leaves us laughing, sometimes contemplating a re-do—but the connection.

With each snip, we traverse the paths of memories, his hands not just styling hair but weaving the stories of his life with my mom, a love tale spanning 56 years, his youth, his paths not taken and his asking me of how he can be a better dad. When he tells me to lean over the basin in the basement so he can wash my hair – with water dripping everywhere, is when I find comfort in his presence. A reminder of the time that's passed and the love that endures.

Our hair discussions are more than just about length and looks. When I chose to go shorter, defying his preference for long locks, it opened up a heartfelt dialogue about identity and authenticity. It wasn't just about cutting hair; it was about honoring who I've become. Each trim mirrored my journey to live authentically, where I learned that as my life became more 'me,' my hair got shorter to match. And every time another woman asks me about my hair, thinking they can't pull off a similar cut, I can't help but chuckle and encourage them to leap, just like I did. Leap into yourself!

And as I reflect on my ascent as a businesswoman, my evolving style, including my hair, has mirrored my personal growth. Initially, I dressed and styled myself with others in mind, but as I delved deeper into my own identity, my appearance began to reflect my true self. My hair became more than a mere accessory; it was a statement of authenticity. It is a vivid expression of an unabashed woman fully embracing her truth in every facet of life.

So, thank you, Dad, not just for the haircuts and the colors—some that turned out just as we hoped and others that added a bit of unintended comedy to our lives—but for the talks, the tears, and the laughter. And above all, for being my dad, my hairdresser, and my best friend. Here's to many more sessions in your chair (now in my childhood home in the basement), whether the style comes out perfect or not, because in the end, it's the love that truly matters.