Goosebumps: humbled in the best way

Goosebumps: a state of the skin caused by cold, fear, or excitement, in which small bumps appear on the surface as the hairs become erect. When I walked into my first market experience, this weekend I felt all of those things at once. Until then, I had only been making small soaps for practice and sharing them with family and friends, so this is the first time I have ever tried to market myself to others, and It was the most humbling experience ever! My Halau, or hula school, hosted a Mākeke (market) for our Haumāna (students). I love going to markets and supporting local or small businesses, but this was my first time participating with something I had made.

The night before Miss Sienna in this dynamic duo was not having it for lack of better words, and putting her to bed so I could start preparing for the following day was a power struggle. When I finally did get her down, I hurried to the kitchen at about 10:30pm to venture into new territory. My supplies had been in a clear bin, waiting patiently for about 4 days, so pulling everything out and setting up gave me goosebumps, que excitement. Making soap has been therapeutic and I wanted to share my new love for this with everyone; carefully deciding which molds would showcase who I am behind the S&G brand. My melting pot was hot, the kitchen smelled like every oil at my disposal, the colorants were carefully cultivated for each base, and by 12:00am I had finished about 25 soaps to sell. When I went to bed, I felt pretty good and made sure to set my alarm to package my craft.

7:00am- Goosebumps, que fear. I woke up with enough time to package everything, print my QR codes, and I knew what I was going to sell my soaps for. The baby was dressed, she even let me do her hair. I was dressed, iced coffee already consumed, and arrived with enough time to set up, but I could not shake my fear that this was a huge mistake, that I was not going to sell anything, that I had no right to try and do this when so many other people were better than me. I arrived with my brother's domino table, I black sheet I borrowed from my sister-in-law, and my little pink boxes of individual soaps; that's it. The booths around me had the signage, the color schemes, the professionalism that I am capable of, but lacked the resources to get before this moment. Now, as the primary parent, most of my efforts during the week go to my primary job for survival, my check was spent before I even got started, and so none of what I needed for this event was even thought about until I saw what I was missing. Here I was, with my business name partner on my hip, running around exploring, curiosity peaked at the crafts table in front of us, crying because she wanted to leave, crying because I wouldn’t let her grab things off other tables, and completely unsatisfied with anything that was remotely for her age bracket. All while trying to manage my little table. My fear swelled in my chest and all I wanted to do was run. No matter how many people came by and loved what I brought, smiled, said it's okay, I felt the overwhelming sting in my chest that I did not belong here, I shouldn't be doing this, and I am a bad mom for dragging my toddler out to this booth. Then two things happened:

First, one of my fellow Haumāna came to my booth to buy soap for her daughter. I told her I was selling my single bars for $1.50, and her shock came with a very distinctive “No”. The conversation that followed was her affirming to me that if I take the time to make something, buy my materials, pick out scents, and build a business, then I sell what I am worth and then some. Goosebumps, que cold. I truly went cold because I knew what she was saying was something that I would have told someone else, so why wouldn’t I say that to myself. Second, I realized that all the tables had a mother behind them, and a daughter roaming around the space too. I wasn’t alone, like I had been thinking I was, and it was so inspiring to see. This group of women did everything I did, and maybe then some to be here, showing their daughters how to take up space, build something special, and work it because you have every right to; showing your support for other women in the process.

Shortly after I sold a few more soaps, packed up my things, and went home. I was so ashamed of how I approached this opportunity, but I left with another to showcase how passionate I am about what I am doing with S&G Essentials and a new found respect for the women that I quietly watch in the back of the classroom when we dance together. When I got home my family greeted me with love and support, and I wish it had been enough to shake off the negative energy I carried, but I knew that was gonna be some work I do within myself. Sienna trotted up to her space to take a nap, and while I lay next her, I finally found my goosebumps had subsided.

I started this journey knowing that I wanted my daughter to be proud of what I accomplished with her name, and this day I could see what she and I could share if I just keep at it. 

So you keep at it too, whatever it is…

Love,

S&G