12/10/2025
According to the U.S. Department of Labor’s Bureau of Labor Statistics, only about 6% of massage therapists in the United States identify as Black or African American. When it comes to esthetics, there isn’t even clear public data — which tells you something in itself.
And that matters.
90% of the time I walk into work and I’m the only person of color in the entire building.
Not just the only Black woman — the ONLY reflection of people who look like me in a space that’s about healing, skin, and care.
What people don’t talk about is how little we’re taught about our skin in school. Most esthetics and massage programs barely touch melanin-rich skin. We graduate knowing the basics…. then we have to invest our own money, our own time, and take continuing education just to learn how to properly treat our own community.
That’s heavy.
And historically, we weren’t taught that things like facials, massage, lymphatic work, or body care were necessities. We were taught they were “luxuries.” “Extra.” “Not for us.” When in reality, these are professional self-care practices that help regulate stress, hormones, trauma, inflammation, and mental health.
This isn’t about vanity.
This is about balance.
This is about nervous system regulation.
This is about healing.
Representation matters because when someone who looks like you touches your skin, cares for your body, and understands your lived experience — it hits different. Being a Black woman in this field means I carry more than certifications — I carry the responsibility of creating spaces where people who’ve historically been excluded finally feel welcomed.
Representation isn’t about “fitting in.”
It’s about expanding what leadership, healing, and excellence look like.
There is power in visibility.
There is power in presence.
And there is power in being the example someone else needed to see.
And I’m proud to be the one standing in rooms where we were rarely seen before.