4 minute read

Reflection, Rejection, Redirection

By Domi Cherie

This year has been filled with moments I’ll never forget. But I’d be lying if I said I haven’t felt alone in some of them — even in the middle of the action, the lights, the stage.

It’s strange, isn’t it? How you can be surrounded and still feel like you’re on the outside looking in. Like there’s a part of you nobody quite sees or understands.

For a long time, I thought those parts made me broken. Now I know they’re what make me an artist. A dreamer. A leader. And sharing them is often how you find the people who truly get it — and get you.

I’ve been told “no” more times than I can count. Told who I should be, how to act, and where my limits were. The AHIA stage was never supposed to be one of them. Definitely not in multiple categories, across multiple years. And yet, here I am.

The Myth of the Win

In our industry, it’s easy to look at trophies as a finish line. But let’s be honest: the moment your name is called doesn’t suddenly make you excellent. Awards don’t create excellence; they spotlight the years of invisible discipline, mistakes, and resilience it takes to get there. They are mirrors of the journey, not destinations.

Every “no” I’ve ever received was really a redirection. Every failure was a lesson disguised as rejection. And when I stood on stage with an award in my hand, it wasn’t validation, it was reflection. Proof that I kept showing up, even when I didn’t want to.

Because this isn’t just about trophies. It’s about turning every time a boss or a mentor laughed at me, told me “no,” called me obsessed and transformed it into a quiet watch me.

It’s about having enough self-belief to take what is real influence, learn from it, and drown out everything that doesn’t serve you in becoming the artist, the leader, the dreamer, the person you want to be.

People see the winning shot, the polished collection, the final trophy moment. Truthfully, I don’t like a large majority of the shots I’ve produced. But here’s the difference: I keep making them anyway. Because art is a subjective evolution — a never-ending pursuit of creative excellence. Just like you’ll change as a person, so will your art and what you create.

Rejection as Redirection

Every stylist, colourist, and educator knows rejection. A collection that doesn’t finalise. An opportunity that goes to someone else. A client who doesn’t rebook. A client who doesn’t like your work.

It hurts in the moment. But in hindsight, those moments are often redirections. They push us to sharpen our craft, rethink our approach, or double down on our vision.

The truth? I’ve learned far more from the “no’s” than I ever have from the “yes’s.”

And when you embrace rejection as redirection, you build something far more powerful than confidence: resilience. Because you can shine bright for a year — or you can become strong enough to remain in the room through all of life’s seasons.

Survival to Thriving

The truth is, I was built in survival.

My early years in hair, much like my early years in life, were about endurance. About adapting, pleasing, performing. Learning to read the room before I read a book.

But today, I have the privilege of thriving.

That doesn’t mean the journey has been clean or linear. Nor have I “arrived.” I’ve simply moved into a new season of growth. Growth is messy. Courage is quiet. Success is layered in mistakes, resilience, and choosing to show up — even when it isn’t perfect. Every trophy on a shelf is the visible tip of an iceberg. Beneath it is a body of work most people will never see: the failures, the pivots, the discipline to keep creating.

The beauty of that work is what brings my art to life — and what I’m fortunate enough to share with the world. The internal work, the journey, the way you look at the world — all of it shapes what you produce. Moments in life that live forever in six images.

What Awards Really Mean

Winning isn’t about perfection. It’s about persistence. It’s about staying the course when it would’ve been easier to give up. Elevating yourself and your craft even when you’re tired, disheartened, or misunderstood. Awards don’t make you excellent. They reveal the excellence you’ve already built in the dark.

Winning isn’t validation. It’s reflection.

And if you’re brave enough to see rejection as redirection, you’ll always keep moving forward — with or without the trophy.

Because at the end of the day, the trophy isn’t the win. The win is the courage to keep creating, even when no one’s watching. One day if you keep that path, you’ll hold an award to reflect that journey.

@domi.cherie

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