When Illness Changes Everything

In 2008, something shifted in my life.

I had gotten a flu shot for the first time, and not long after that, I began dealing with a level of fatigue and pain I had never known before. At the time, I didn’t fully understand what was happening in my body—I just knew I didn’t feel like myself anymore.

But I kept going.

Because that’s what I’ve always done.

I pushed through the pain. I pushed through the exhaustion. And I kept my salon open, because I loved what I did. This wasn’t just a job to me—it was my calling.

Over the years, my journey looked different than most.

I worked in my own salon for about five years, then downsized and rented a room in another salon, thinking it would be easier. Less space to clean, less to manage. But it didn’t feel right, and I eventually went back to my own space again.

A couple of years later, I closed and began working from home. I had clients who were loyal enough to follow me there—about 16 of them—and I cared for them for about a year before opening up again.

I stayed open for another five years… until COVID.

Like so many others, I had to close my doors. I adapted again—this time doing home visits for a year—before opening in a very small room. I stayed there about a year, then moved closer to home.

That move cost me some clients… but I gained many more.

And I stayed there for five years.

But this time… something was different.

The fatigue had grown heavier. The pain more constant. And life outside the salon had become just as demanding.

I wasn’t just running a business anymore.

I was helping care for my parents.
I was helping take care of my son’s home.
I was trying to keep up with my own home—the tiny house we moved into two years ago that still isn’t fully finished.

And somewhere in the middle of all of that… I was trying to take care of myself.

And I couldn’t.

Not the way I needed to.

Not the way my body was asking me to.

And not without it affecting my marriage.

I had begun depending on my husband more and more to carry the weight of things I no longer had the strength for. And as a roofer, with his own health to think about, it wasn’t fair to him either.

Something had to give.

And for the first time in my life…
I chose to let it be the business.

That was not an easy decision.

After more than 40 years in this industry… after building relationships, trust, and a reputation… after pouring my heart into every client that sat in my chair…

Walking away felt like losing a part of myself.

Even now, I still miss it.

I miss my clients.
I miss the conversations.
I miss the feeling of helping someone walk out better than they came in.

There are days I sit quietly and wonder if I gave up too soon.

But then I look at my life now.

I move slower.
I rest when I need to.
I’m present with my family.
My home is slowly becoming what I want it to be.
And my marriage… has peace again.

And I realize…

I didn’t give up my dream.

I honored a new season.

A season where my role looks different.
A season where my energy is limited, and I have to choose carefully where it goes.
A season where being a wife, a mother, and a daughter matters just as much as being a nail technician ever did.

Maybe one day I’ll return in a small way.

Maybe I won’t.

But what I do know is this—

Rest is not failure.
Slowing down is not quitting.
And choosing your health and your family is never the wrong decision.

I will always love what I did.

And in many ways…
It will always be a part of who I am.