The weight of the world has a way of pressing down at the most inconvenient times, like a sudden, suffocating blanket that’s left me gasping for breath. The ad message for my skincare course had been meticulously crafted, each word chosen with care, every sentence sharpened to perfection. I had spent hours, days even, molding it into something I believed would resonate with those who needed to hear it most. It was more than just an advertisement; it was a declaration, a clear line drawn in the sand between who the course was for and who it was not.
And yet, despite the unanimous approval from a trusted friend and a few family members I had shared it with, something held me back. The cursor blinked on the screen, waiting for the final command to send it out into the world, but my finger hesitated, hovering over the button. The thoughts in my mind, usually so precise and purposeful, had begun to race uncontrollably, colliding with one another in a chaotic frenzy. It felt as if the weight of my responsibilities, my expectations, and the dark undercurrents of the world outside my door were all conspiring to pull me headfirst into the floor, making it impossible to rise.
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I tried everything to steady myself. Guided meditations that always brought me peace now felt like distant echoes in a storm. The noise of the world outside was too much, and I found myself turning off the TV, shutting down social media, anything to escape the relentless negativity that threatened to consume my thoughts. But the unease remained, a heavy, gnawing presence that I couldn’t shake.
Today, though, I knew what I needed. I let the water run in the bathtub, hotter and hotter, and I could feel the tension beginning to melt away. Just then, the typical summer Florida skies turned dark and roared with thunder to my delight. A pound of magnesium salts dissolved into the water as if they were seeping immediately into my body while I slowly submerged myself. The scalding heat pricked at my skin, forcing me to focus on the sensation until nothing else existed. Here, in this small, porcelain sanctuary, my thoughts began to untangle themselves as they often do. This was the “Calgon take me away” moment I needed.
With the water cradling my body, I couldn’t help but marvel at the simple luxuries we so often take for granted. Hot water. What a gift it was. My mind wandered, imagining a world without it, a time before such comforts existed. Soon, my thoughts circled back to the ad.
Here’s the original ad message I drafted:
See an ad for a course or master class and think, "Ugh, another one?" Yeah, me too. It's like the internet is throwing a never-ending parade of "experts" at us, all promising to change our lives in five easy steps, a two-hour webinar, or with a $997 investment (but only if you act fast!). And let's not even get started on those ads that make you feel like you're missing out on some secret society where everyone is becoming a millionaire while you're still trying to figure out how to fold a fitted sheet properly.
Here's the thing. I've been around the block a few times in the esthetics world. I've seen the good, the bad, and the downright ridiculous. I get it: the hustle is real, and education is key. But let's be honest. Not every course out there is worth your time or money. Some are just cleverly disguised cash grabs, preying on the hopes and dreams of those of us genuinely trying to level up our game. So, what's a savvy esthetician to do? How do you separate the gold from the glitter? How do you know which course will actually help you master your craft and which one will leave you with a fancy certificate and nothing more?
That's where I come in. I've curated, created, and critiqued enough courses to know what works and what doesn't. And guess what? I'm here to spill the tea, tell it like it is, and share what has worked for me. What kept my schedule booked out with an 8-month waiting list. For years, I’ve shared and taught my courses privately, but after seeing this industry struggle, I've decided to launch them publicly. Maybe, just maybe, I can offer you something that's actually worth your time. No fluff, no gimmicks, just real, actionable knowledge that can elevate your practice to the next level.
Because let's face it, you're not here to just "get by." You're here to excel, to stand out, and to become the go-to Esthetician. And that, my friend, takes more than just attending every shiny new master class that pops up on your feed. It takes dedication, the right tools, and a no-BS approach to continuous education.
So, if you're ready to cut through the noise and invest in something that actually delivers results, stick with me. I promise it’ll be worth your while. But before you jump in, know this: my courses are not for just anyone and that’s by design. What sets me apart are my high expectations and high standards. I’m highly selective and require an interview. I pore my soul into my work, and I expect the same from my students. I will not waste my time or accept money from anyone who isn’t serious about the industry I love so much. My purpose is to elevate the standards in this industry, not lower them.
In the silence of the bath, with the weight of the world momentarily lifted, I realized what had been eluding me all along. This is what I truly wanted to say, and the words that had felt so elusive before now came rushing to the surface, clear and undeniable as I soaked in my porcelain sanctuary:
My courses are not for everyone. If you’re the type that thinks free product training is stellar continuing education or a cheap one-day course will validate charging double for your services, you won’t find what you’re looking for here. If $700 a month in rent seems like too steep a price to invest in your own space as a solo esthetician, then this course isn't the right fit. If you cringe at the thought of cracking open a book and diving deep into the knowledge you need to truly master your craft, or if you don’t like to read, you might want to look elsewhere.
And if your idea of education is following beauty influencers with millions of followers, hoping their trends will somehow translate into your success, this course will only frustrate you. If your dream is to become a social media star, chasing likes and shares rather than honing your skills, I’m afraid we’re not on the same page.
And if reading this has ruffled your feathers because you’re easily offended, well, then keep scrolling because what I offer is for those who are ready to rise to the challenge, not shy away from it. And finally, if you’re completely broke and out of work because the hustle is beneath you, well, I certainly hope you scrolled on by already because my course is for those who want to elevate, not just themselves, but the entire industry and that requires working hard.
Can I say that? Can I be that honest? These are the questions that haunted me as I sat there, the water slowly cooling around me. But in that moment, I realized something important: this wasn’t just about the ad messaging; it was about what it means to be authentic in a world that often demands we conform, that we smooth out our rough edges for the sake of likability.
Being authentic means being willing to be “lovingly unlikable.” It means drawing those lines in the sand, even if it means turning some people away. Because at the end of the day, I don’t want to be loved for something I’m not. I want to be respected for who I am, even if that makes me unlikable to some.
And as I sat there, contemplating all of this, I thought that maybe the very thing that makes me hesitant to share this message is the same thing that makes it powerful. It’s raw, it’s real, and yes, it might be unlikable to some, but to those who resonate with it, it could be exactly what they need.
And now I’m asking. Isn’t that what authenticity is all about?
Ultimately, I think this might speak to the heart of what it means to be a leader in any given field. Someone who is willing to stand by their principles, even if it means not everyone will agree. But here’s the thing: there’s been a huge shift in marketing, one that makes me think I may not be cut out for the business side of this industry. Yet, maybe that’s exactly why I’m needed. Maybe, in a world where marketing often feels more like manipulation, there’s still room for the kind of honesty that doesn’t just sell. It connects, challenges, and ultimately transforms. Maybe, being lovingly unlikable is the truest form of leadership there is. I guess we’ll soon find out.
