Jen Atkin - Blowing My Way to the Top

On the set of Roar with Katy Perry2013

W hen I first started out as a hairstylist, if I wanted to document my work I had to bring a camera with me to the job, snap pics, then go to Costco and get prints developed (doubles, of course, so I had an extra set to give to my client). Instagram didnt exist, and most stylists were reluctant to reveal their techniques or the lessons theyd learned on the road to success. The idea of giving hair tutorials to fellow stylists, let alone the public at large, was basically unheard-of. If anything, hairstyling was steeped in a culture of secrecy, because hoarding skills (and who you knew) was how you scored highly coveted jobs and kept the next generation from nipping at your heels. When I moved to L.A. in 2000, no oneor at least very few peoplewanted to show me the ropes. It was hard, it was scary, and it was lonely.

I remember thinking back then that if my career took off, I wanted to do my small part to help change the professional culture. Instead of being competitive, I wanted to be collaborative. I felt a responsibility to share my story; I wanted to teach and pass along the knowledge Id gained, whether it was how to work a curling iron and a pair of scissors or the lessons Id learned the hard way about navigating L.A. when youre a nineteen-year-old ex-Mormon with no job and three hundred dollars to your name. When we share our trade skills, we all become better artists. When we share our life stories, we all become better people.

When Instagram finally did come around, about a decade after I arrived in California, I was an early adopter, showcasing cool hairstyles, inspo pics, and the technical tricks Id picked up over the years. And as my followers grewbecause people were sharing my photos with their friends and my clients were tagging me in their own picsmy work expanded by leaps and bounds and my life changed in ways I never could have anticipated. As I continued to build my hairstyling business and later launch my own products, I kept accumulating more knowledge that I wanted to share with people. About how to build a business and start a brand, how to forge meaningful relationships, how to embrace the art of the hustle, and how to question the people who dont want you to succeed. And most of all, how to go from feeling stuck in a life that isnt right for you to beating the odds and landing in a place where you can confidently say you feel like youve made it.

Ive posted some of these life lessons on Instagram, Snapchat, YouTube, and my all-things-hair website, Mane Addicts. Now Im collecting them in this book, because often the full stories are just too long for an Insta caption, and because I have a ton of respect for the life-changing magic of reading a book (I swear I own half the self-help section). But also because for me, sharing has been a lifeline. The few people who were kind enough to take me under their wing changed my life. If theres anything my experience with social media has taught me its that being authentic and honest and opening up pays back in dividends. My career has been built on blood, sweat, tears, and hard work, but also on community. On human connection.

It took decades for me to muster the confidence to share the lessons Ive learned in a book, or to even believe I had the authority to write a book, but I feel equipped today to help anyone whos in the place where I was twenty years ago: broke, scared, stuck, and wanting more out of life than what my community envisioned for me. Ill tell you the story of how I got from there to where I am today, a forty-year-old woman whos built a rewarding career, found financial security, and, even more importantly, has created the life she dreamed of. Of course, Im not finished. Im still learning and growing. But my life has changed so much that I do believe some of those early chapters have finally closed, and I can look back on them and share my discoveriesand bumps in the roadwith candor, transparency, and hopefully a little bit of humor. (It wasnt always glamorous, believe me.) Im excited to tell my story, and even more excited to help YOU discover your story and your best life ahead. Because you may not want to be a hairstylist, and building a product line might be the furthest thing from your mind, but we all want to live the life we were meant for. Thats universal. We all want to have a life full of purpose. We want to feel loved and find success, however we define it.

THE QUESTION I GET asked more than any other is: How did you get your start? for two years. All I served was major attitude. I was supposed to graduate high school and seminary class, stay away from R-rated movies and explicit lyrics, and, upon turning eighteen, quit my job at Little Caesars and marry my high school boyfriend (after he completed his Mormon mission) with the goal of starting a family by twenty-one. I was supposed to follow the teachings of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints or risk being banned to hell and deprived of my family FOR ALL TIME AND ETERNITY. Super-chill. It was either/or. NBD, right?

By the time I was a teenager, I had developed what I like to call the Little Mermaid Syndrome. I wanted more. I wanted to be... part of that world. And by that world I mean the non-Mormon world, the one I saw on MTV and read about in Tiger Beat but couldnt be a part of myself. I was so curious about who I really was and what I was meant to be. And I was absolutely fascinated by stories of beauty and transformation. If a movie didnt have a makeover scene or a shopping montage, I wasnt interested. I loved music, fashion, and pop culture. While my friends were memorizing Scripture, I was buying Bop magazine to get the fold-out posters of New Kids on the Block and Paula Abdul.

Growing up, the only salons I knew of were located in suburban strip malls. But still I loved tagging along with my mom for her weekly appointments at Supercuts, Fantastic Sams, or, my personal favorite, United Hairlines. She would get a perm and then get her hair set, and she always had her nails done. I still remember the smell of the permI could have watched the stylists work on her hair for hours. No matter what my mother was doing, even if she had zero plans that day, she always got herself dressed nicely and put on a full face of makeup, and I saw how that changed her mood. Shed wake up feeling blah, get glammed, and instantly have a better attitude. I definitely absorbed the idea that there was power in looking your best to feel your best, but it never occurred to me that it was even possible for me to be a hairstylist.

From what I saw all around me, not to mention in the movies (like Edward Scissorhands