Hi beauties! Welcome to my first blog entry! Get ready, this is a long one!
Makeup was not always a passion of mine. I didn’t grow up experimenting with eyeshadow pigments, lipstick, or eyeliner. The life I have now was never planned nor expected, but fate got me here, and I have discovered a different part of myself that has allowed the kind of growth I would never have experienced had my life not taken such a drastic turn. Below you will discover this journey, and as my life evolves further, I will document it along the way.
It’s 2007, and young, 18-year-old me got accepted into Cal Poly Pomona, with a major in Anthropology. Did I know what I was going to do with this degree? Heck no! I just knew that I loved learning everything about people—language, culture, etc. Time went on, and I found myself being drawn to a very niche section of anthropology: bioarchaeology. This is the combination of biological anthropology and archaeology. Fascinated by forensics—really, who wasn’t, with popular tv shows like CSI and Bones ruling our television screens—I stepped into the world of osteology; the study of human bones. At one point in time, I could identify every bone in the body, and determine whether a skeleton was male or female, adult or child, what their approximate age was, whether they had suffered from any illness/disease, and the most exciting part, cause of death.
Time went on, and after I graduated from Cal Poly, I decided to pack up my life and move to San Francisco, where I begun another chapter of my life, studying at the master’s level program at San Francisco State University. I had an incredibly amount of bizarre experiences in San Francisco (have you been there? It’s not difficult to have strange experiences), but that’s enough for a whole other blog entry—and trust me, you’re going to want to read that one! Eventually, my work became stagnate, and I didn’t wish to waste any more time (and not to mention, money) continuing a program that was no longer serving me. I did amazing work, and met wonderful people, but I knew in my heart that this was the end of my career as an anthropologist. It just wasn’t filling my cup anymore, and I became disheartened.
After I dropped out of the SFSU graduate program, I started traveling with my then-fiancee (now-husband), as he completed his apprenticeship for line work. We spent a few years traveling in our 28-foot bumper pull trailer (so luxurious, right?), living throughout Montana and Colorado. We experienced below-zero weather, power outages in freezing temperatures, as well as living paycheck to paycheck. I couldn’t work because we moved around so much; this was such a huge sacrifice for me. I had been consistently working and totally supporting myself since I was 17 years old. I felt that I‘d lost my identity. And even though I did things to pass the time—I learned to crochet and refinish furniture, among other things—it led me into a deep depression.
Fast-forward to 2016, a few years after we got married. We were nearly done with his apprenticeship, and I was due with our first boy when we both moved back home to Southern California. It was a relief to be around family again, and to have the support that I needed. It was still hard for me, because I knew I wouldn’t be working or developing any kind of career for quite a while, since I decided to become a stay at home mom. Talk about losing your identity! I don’t think I ever fully came out of the deep pit of depression I fell into after I dropped out of graduate school; it just got worse.
Fast-forward again to when my oldest, Declan, was 9 months old. To put it quite frankly, I had a complete emotional breakdown. A real one, the kind you’re hospitalized for. Come to find out, I had developed hypothyroidism, but not just any hypothyroidism, Hashimoto’s thyroiditis. I was living with an autoimmune illness that was completely going unchecked. If you have never heard of this illness, you should Google it. There’s a wealth of information about how the thyroid controls SO many things within your body, and if it’s not working properly (ie working in over drive, or not working well enough), it affects your mood, your energy levels, and so much more. Add in the autoimmune form of it, and you’re in for a miserable experience.
Coming out of this diagnosis with at least some understanding of why I had completely lost my mind (not exaggerating—I literally lost it), it brought some comfort, since I knew that there was an actual physical problem with my body. But then came the daunting realization that I would be sick for the rest of my life. Brain fog (forgetfulness, poor short-term memory), body pain, overall fatigue, low energy, food sensitivities…..I can go on. I needed something to fill my cup while I dealt with this mess. I was at a loss, until my good friend and fellow linewife (that’s what we call us women that are married to lineman—we’re like a gang!) introduced me to a direct sales company. I started selling skincare and makeup, and along the way, I somehow discovered a new passion of mine. I was able to be creative, and I was also able to brighten up my dark circles and even out my complexion—y’all know how much pregnancy can mess with your skin. I wanted to learn and do more. So I did.
This is where I came up with Life on the Beauty Line. In the line trade, our men perform a very dangerous job. They work on and repair high voltage power lines. There is a saying that is said within the line community about these men putting their lives on the line. It has a dual meaning, of course. As linewives, we live this, often difficult, lifestyle—many travel with their husbands, as I did, but a lot of the time, their husbands travel alone, hundreds and thousands of miles away. It’s not just the men giving their lives on the line, but their families as well. With my new passion for makeup, I enmeshed the two worlds. Enter, Life on the Beauty Line, the very name of this blog.
Okay, this entry is long enough, but be on the lookout for another entry detailing my experience in makeup academy—such a huge turning point for me.