A tale of two chairs: Stylist's and mine
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐮𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 — 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐭𝐬.
She was shy, anxious, and barely a talker. But as our session began, she looked at me and asked,
“𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘥𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘤𝘶𝘵?”- A decade ago, I would have squirmed at a question like this — awkward and unsure how to respond. But now, with a few more years (and sessions) behind me, I saw it for what it was: a gentle invitation into my client’s world.
We both had short hair, and I sensed that simple detail made her feel a bit more at ease.
“𝘛𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘭𝘰𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘴,” I said, “𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘢 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘴’ 𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘴𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯, 𝘩𝘮𝘮 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘢𝘭 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘪 𝘣𝘢𝘳𝘣𝘦𝘳.”
Her eyes widened, and I could almost hear the unspoken words: We just connected.
She laughed in relief:
“𝘖𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘨𝘰𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 ha𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘰𝘯𝘦!”
We ended up talking about how uncomfortable ladies’ salons can be — how we pay three times more, get guilt-tripped about hair loss, sold treatments we didn’t ask for, and often leave feeling worse.
“𝘐 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘦𝘴’ 𝘴𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯,” she said.
“𝘐 𝘢𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘦 — 𝘪𝘵 i𝘴 𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦,” I replied.
Then she paused.
“𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘧𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦,” she said.
“𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘐 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘔𝘺 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘪𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘰𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮. 𝘐𝘵 𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘴 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘩𝘦𝘳.”
I have had many reasons shared over the years for why clients chose to work with me — but this one was entirely different.
In a world that often judges us for how we look, this came in as a surprise that one could be rejected or accepted for one’s physical traits as a therapist. It’s honestly the last thing I thought would matter in this line of work. But to be chosen because my short hair made someone feel safe — that stayed with me.
And honestly?
A quiet haircut at a men’s salon was its own kind of relief.
No questions, no product pushing, no pity — just quiet efficiency. Maybe it’s because hair loss in men is accepted a lot more, and no one feels the need to comment. Unlike the ladies’ salons where I often felt like my case history was being taken (and theirs generously shared).
Never have I missed a salon where my hair wasn’t pitied, my scalp wasn’t diagnosed, and my dignity wasn’t chipped away.
That moment with my client reminded me how the tiniest details, short hair, a shared discomfort — can create connection and trust in a deep, human way.
Have you ever bonded with a client over something unexpectedly simple?
I would love to hear your stories: Safe Spaces