When Artistry Becomes Identity

There comes a moment when your artistry stops being just something you do with your hands and starts becoming a deeper part of who you are. For me, makeup has never just been about color, texture, or technique. It has been about the quiet memories, personal identity, and belonging. What began as play in front of a mirror turned into language, a way of saying this is who I am without needing to explain.

The longer I’ve worked in this industry, the more I’ve realized artistry doesn’t just sit on the surface. It seeps inward very quickly. My experience as an artist really plays into the way I move through the world. And at some point, you can’t tell where the artistry ends and where you begin, because they start to  become one.

Being an artist often means wearing multiple hats. One being the one you create for others, and then you have the one you carry for yourself. As makeup artists, we learn how to shift between them seamlessly.

There are days when artistry feels like armor, protecting you from judgment or self-doubt. Other days, it feels like an open window, exposing the most vulnerable parts of who you are. The balance is fragile: honoring your craft while also honoring your humanity.

It’s in this dual role that the lines blur. The artist becomes the individual, and the individual becomes the artist. Each informs the other, shaping how you love, work, and show up in the world.

For Black women in beauty, artistry is never solely about aesthetics. It carries the weight of history, culture, and representation. Every time I sit across from a client who looks like me, I know I’m doing more than applying makeup. I’m creating visibility in spaces where we’ve too often been overlooked.

There’s a responsibility in that. To show up fully. To honor the spectrum of skin tones, textures, and stories that sit in my chair. To make sure no one feels like their beauty is “too much” or “not enough.” Representation means reflecting back possibility. It’s important to me to make sure my clients feel like glam belongs to all of us, not just to the faces most often centered in magazines or campaigns. That even goes beyond race, age, gender, size, etc. It’s bigger than all the things we are taught are hindrances.

It’s both pressure and privilege. Because when you step into this role, you’re not only carrying your own identity as an artist, you’re carrying the hopes of those who’ve long waited to see themselves reflected in beauty with dignity and care.

Artistry begins with foundation and lashes, but it doesn’t end there. Over time, it transforms into something far deeper. It becomes a mirror of confidence, a record of stories, a legacy in motion. Makeup can shift how a client sees themselves in a single moment, but for the artist, it builds layer by layer until it becomes part of your very identity.

The act of creating beauty on others has a way of shaping the beauty you begin to see in yourself. Each face becomes a story you helped tell. Whether it’s a bride stepping into forever, a professional stepping into a room with her head high, or a woman simply reminding herself she is enough. Those moments stay with you. They etch into your sense of self until artistry is no longer just a craft. It’s a way of being.

And that’s the transformation: beyond glam, beyond trends, beyond technique. It’s the understanding that artistry is soul work. For some, artistry is just their job…. but for me it’s my purpose.

For me, glam has never been surface level. It’s the quiet power of making someone feel seen. It’s the courage to stand in a world that often wants you smaller and say: I belong here, in every shade, in every story, in every stroke of artistry.

And maybe that’s what identity really is. It’s the merging of art and soul. Until you look at your reflection, or the reflection of someone you’ve touched, and you recognize the beauty of both the artist and the individual shining back.