Confessions from Behind the Chair: Burnout, Bills & Why I Still Love This Messy, Beautiful Career

Let’s be real: being a hairstylist sounds like a dream job. You get to wield scissors like magic wands, create stunning transformations, and watch people walk out of the salon feeling like a million bucks. And yeah, those moments are everything. But for every magical makeover and joyful “oh my god I love it!” moment, there’s a whole emotional rollercoaster of burnout, marketing anxiety, and a very specific kind of dread that comes from checking your schedule and seeing… absolutely nothing.

Welcome to the real world of hairstyling -where passion meets panic and creativity battles capitalism.

Feast or Famine: The Glamorous Workload No One Talks About

Some days, I can’t breathe. My books are slammed, my back is aching, and I’m inhaling dry shampoo for lunch between clients.

Then, other days? The calendar stares back at me like a ghost town. Two appointments. One tentative. One that’s probably not going to show. Cue the panic. Cue the existential crisis. Cue me questioning every life choice that led me here.

That’s the thing no one tells you: this job is unpredictable in the most emotionally chaotic way. You go from fully booked and euphoric to “should I start a candle business?” in 24 hours.

Is it thrilling? Yes.

Is it stressful? Also yes.

Am I OK? Debatable.

The Financial Whiplash Is Real

Let’s get real about money—or the scary absence of it. One week, you’re swimming in revenue and feeling like a six-figure superstar. The next, you’re Googling “How much does a kidney sell for?” just to cover the cost of new shears.

Between licensing costs, insurance, tools, supplies, education, and the occasional emergency therapy session (hello again, marketing burnout), being a stylist, running your own studio salon, means juggling a million roles at once—bringing our skills to life, managing a business, standing on your feet for 10 hours straight, while clients keep a close eye on your work (no pressure!).

But we keep showing up. Because we love what we do.

Also, because we’re not about to quit after dropping a small fortune on those fancy scissors!

Marketing Myself Makes Me Want to Scream (Lovingly)

Now let’s discuss the part of the job that truly haunts me: marketing.

In a perfect world, I'd spend my time learning new techniques, connecting with clients, and not crying over Instagram algorithms. But in this economy? I’m expected to be the artist, the CEO, and a social media magician—all before my second coffee.

I didn’t become a stylist to spend hours promoting myself online. Honestly, I just want to focus on doing incredible hair—like that four-hour dimensional blonde that could easily win an Oscar.

In a perfect world, people would trust my skills and give me a chance without needing constant convincing. But with salon services costing a pretty penny and clients wary after bad experiences elsewhere, you have to hustle to show why you’re worth every cent.

So yeah, I market. A lot. Begrudgingly. Anxiously. And yes… sometimes with memes.

The Good Stuff (Because It’s Not All Doom)

There are definitely moments that refill my cup. And no, I’m not just talking about that forgotten iced coffee from two clients ago.

What really keeps me going? The people. The connections. Those chats that start with “just a trim” and somehow end with a new bestie I genuinely adore. When someone plops into my chair, trusts me with their hair and their time, and leaves feeling like the absolute best version of themselves—that’s the magic.

This job isn’t just about scissors and foils. It’s creativity on the fly. It’s swapping good vibes. It’s real transformation—hair and heart.

Keeping My Sanity (Mostly)

To survive the endless hustle, burnout, and those “Hey, any last-minute openings today?” texts flooding my phone, I’ve had to get serious about setting boundaries.

Here’s what I’m working on (emphasis on working):

• Blocking out marketing time like it’s an actual client. (Still a work in progress.)

• Taking real days off without the guilt trip. (Also a work in progress.)

• Doing stuff that has nothing to do with hair… even if I somehow still end up binge-watching hair videos in my downtime.

Because burnout is definitely real. But so is bouncing back (fingers crossed).

Why I'm Still Here?

Because for all the chaos, I still love this messy, unpredictable, emotionally taxing career.

I love the transformation, the creativity, the people, the weird conversations about childhood trauma and purple shampoo. I love seeing someone light up when they look in the mirror. I love making people feel like themselves again—or maybe like someone completely new.

And yeah, I 100% fantasize about quitting it all to become a dog walker in the mountains or a lighthouse keeper with no Wi-Fi. But then someone hugs me after a haircut, or sends a message saying they’ve never felt more like themselves—and I remember why I’m still here. There's something incredibly grounding about putting my talents to actual use, about creating something with my hands and heart that makes someone feel amazing. The connection, the creativity, the transformation—it’s not just a job, it’s my outlet. My art. My weird little love language. And somehow, even when I’m running on dry shampoo and caffeine, that still feels worth it.