(A love letter to boundaries, baseball games, and the evolution of work)

If you know me, you know Iā€™ve been doing this for a LONG time. Frankly, Iā€™ve been lugging my kit around longer than TikTok influencers have been alive. Iā€™ve done the early mornings, the marathon wedding parties, the packed hotel suites, and the ā€œwe have to be ready by 9:00 a.m. but also, 3 of us might still have on leftover makeup from last nightā€™s rehearsal dinner and we may or may not be on the verge of pukingā€ chaos.

For almost two decades, my weekends belonged to everyone else.

When you work in an industry that runs on Fridays, Saturdays and Sundays, you miss a lot. Birthdays. Bridal Showers. Baby showers. Brunches. Weddings (that youā€™re not working). Most people build their lives around weekends (the expression ā€œworking for the weekendā€ came from somewhere,) and for years, I justā€¦ couldnā€™t.

In my 20s, it didnā€™t feel like a big deal. I had the energy of a caffeinated golden retriever and the stamina to work all day, then still meet friends for dinner or an evening out. Being on my feet for hours, hauling my not-so-light kit over gravel driveways and up staircases, surviving on coffee and granola bars, it was all just part of the job.

But then, I became a mom.

At first, it was manageable. Babies nap a lot. Toddlers donā€™t have weekend schedules. I still had those Mondays-Fridays with him. But once my son started school, everything shifted. Suddenly, weekends were everything. Baseball games, birthday parties, family time. It was all happening without me.

I tell this story to every client who asks why I donā€™t do weekend weddings anymore:
When my son was five, I missed his entire baseball season. Every. Single. Game.
The only one I made it to was a rain makeup game. Afterward, I went to help the team mom pass out snacks, and she thanked me for helping, because she thought I was a mom from the other team. She had never met me. I had never been there.

That one stung. Hard.

And to be honest, it wasnā€™t just the emotional toll that finally got to me. It was the physical one, too.

By my late 30s, recovering from a large bridal party was brutal. Iā€™d come home from a 4 hr round trip commute, after an 8-hour day of standing, bending, and carrying a 40-pound kit up and down wedding venue stairs feeling completely wrecked. My back ached, my feet throbbed, and Iā€™d need an entire day to recover. During that recovery time, I couldnā€™t be present for my family either. I was too drained. By the time I was fully recovered, it was Monday and my son was back at school šŸ™

Between missing the family moments and the physical exhaustion of working long weekend hours, I realized something had to give. I loved my work (still do) but it couldnā€™t keep costing me everything else I loved.

So, in 2022, I made a huge change. I stepped away from the [weekend] bridal industry.  

I redesigned my studio into a space where clients could come to me. A space that felt calm, private, and pampering, without the chaos and noise that filled a bridal suite or the public display of a retail environment. I wanted to offer an experience (and a safe space) where people could actually enjoy their appointments, uninterrupted, like any other spa service.

And honestly? Itā€™s been life-changing.

I shifted from bridal work to something that feels more in line with real everyday life. Now, I get to work with clients in every phase of life: high school/college graduates proudly displaying their diplomas, professionals updating their headshots, moms rediscovering makeup after years of putting themselves last, professionals returning to the office after years of working from home, retirees exploring new routines, and members of the trans community finding what makes them feel most authentically themselves.

Itā€™s a more diverse, fulfilling version of my work and it aligns with where I am in my life.

I know Iā€™m not saving lives, but I am helping people feel like the best versions of themselves again. And I get to do it while also showing up for my family and friends. And while my sonā€™s baseball career may have been short-lived, I get to be a part of whatever sport, hobby, or random new obsession he decides to dive into next.

I still love what I do. It just looks different now.
And thatā€™s exactly how itā€™s supposed to be.