How I Knew It Was Time to Make a Shift in My Life

Life has a way of nudging us when we’re on the wrong path, but sometimes we don’t notice the signs until they’re impossible to ignore. My journey to making a life-altering change didn’t happen overnight. It was a slow, painful realization that unfolded over several years.

The Beginning of Burnout
About five years ago, I began to really dread going to work. As a hairstylist, weekends were my biggest money-making days, especially Saturdays. But those were also the days when my family needed me most. I missed out on countless family activities—birthday parties, family events, outdoor activities, and just simple moments of togetherness. My heart was torn between my clients and my children, and it felt like I was constantly failing one or the other.

I started cutting back on work, trying to get real with my priorities. I knew one thing for sure: my kids came first. But as I reduced my hours, the demands from my clients didn’t ease up. My phone became an extension of my job, constantly buzzing with texts and calls, even in the middle of the night. I had given out my personal number to my closest clients, trying to be accommodating, but it only made things worse (I mean, I love my clients… don’t get me wrong here). I found myself replying to texts while camping with my family or during my kids’ hockey games. My work had seeped into every corner of my life, and it was starting to overwhelm me.

Juggling Priorities
As the primary caregiver for my children, it became increasingly difficult to leave them with someone else, as I valued raising my children—and that’s not to put anyone down for what they have to do, I know sometimes we don’t have a choice. I was the most flexible between my husband and me, so I worked less and less, but even then, I couldn’t escape the constant demands of my job. It got to the point where I was bringing my kids to the salon with me, where they would sit for anywhere from 3-6 hours as I worked on clients—not to mention, I was breaking up fights in between (mommy HULK was about to bust through!). I loved my clients, but I started to feel like a slave to my work, constantly torn between my business and my family.

The burnout crept in deeper as time went by. I began to feel detached from my kids, even when they were right there with me. How sad, right? I was drifting through life, missing important dates, forgetting about events, and even missing payments on bills. I wasn’t myself anymore, and I knew something had to change, but I felt stuck, like I was in quicksand.

Life Takes a Small Turn
Then, last year, my mom decided to visit her home country for a couple of months, leaving me to run the salon on my own. It was during this time that my dad’s health took a sudden turn. One day, his stomach was bothering him, so he decided to drive to the ER. Except he got completely lost, ended up in a ditch, and had to be taken in by a friend. That’s when I first realized that something was seriously wrong.

The doctor told my dad he couldn’t drive without approval from his primary care provider. It was a tough blow for him—losing his independence like that. A few weeks later, he was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, and our lives were turned upside down. My dad didn’t remember how to make coffee anymore, so my husband and I started bringing him a pot of coffee every day while my mom was out of the country. I was running him to doctor appointments, trying to manage his care, and still trying to take care of my own family.

I felt like my soul was leaving my body.

When my mom came back, the stress only intensified. My dad’s condition created tension between my parents, and my mom struggled to accept the reality of his diagnosis. Working alongside her at the salon made it even harder. I was trying to manage my business, care for my children, and support my parents all at once. It was all just too much.

But I kept doing hair. I didn’t see a way out. I was stuck.

Life Hits Rock Bottom
If you’ve ever been in this stage—where burnout is real, and your soul has left the room—I feel you on a deep level. I was there… I was there.

It got to the point where my heart literally hurt just thinking about going to work and leaving my children. I knew deep down that something had to give, but I was scared. Change is hard for most people. It’s easy to get comfortable where you are, even if it’s not where you want to be.

Then, a few weeks ago, a family crisis hit that shook me to my core. It’s the kind of event that changes everything, and I don’t think my family will ever fully recover from it. My children were deeply affected, and my husband and I are still helping them through the trauma. It was during this time that I realized I couldn’t keep living the way I was. Something had to change.

Taking the Leap of Faith
I made the decision to pack up my things and leave behind 15 years of service to my amazing clients. It was bittersweet, and yes, I’m still scared. But I knew that this was what I needed to do to reclaim my life and my happiness.

The circumstances I faced opened my eyes to the bigger picture—that I deserved to be happy. Happy in my work, happy in my family life, and fulfilled in everything I do. My side of the family had always been a huge part of my life, and I valued that deeply. But as I saw changes in the people close to me, and as my values no longer aligned with theirs, I knew it was time to make a change.

Just because things take a turn for the worse doesn’t mean you have to stay in a situation that no longer serves you. It doesn’t mean you’re turning on your family or that you hate them. It just means that sometimes, the things we experience no longer serve us, and it’s okay to move on.

Embracing the Unknown
I want you to know that it’s okay to let go of what no longer serves you. It’s okay to create distance, to change, and to protect your peace. Life is too short to stay stuck in a situation that drains you. Sometimes we need to take that first step into the abyss to find what’s truly meant for us.

You never know what incredible journey lies ahead without that first step.