Beauty is one of my favorite little joys in life, and Ulta has seen more of me than my bank account would approve of. I go there whether I need something or not, and sometimes just to wander the aisles on a tiny adventure. One of my favorite parts is standing in line. I know it sounds weird, but there is something wonderful about how so many different people, all at different stages of life, somehow end up in the same spot. Let me explain.
A few spots behind me in line were a couple of tween girls clutching a basket between them, talking and laughing too loudly. They kept subtracting prices out loud, putting things back, picking them up again, putting them back. We’ve all been there. Lip gloss usually always wins, by the way. Their mom dropped them off with twenty dollars and a little bit of freedom, and they were gripping onto both like they were rare treasures. They weren’t trying to look older or cooler, just excited to choose for themselves. It threw me back into the memory of my parents dropping my awkward middle school friend group off to shop for ourselves almost a decade ago (yikes). Everything was new and sparkly and exciting. It was our first wobbly toddler steps in practicing how we wanted to present ourselves to the world. The freedom of trying everything out for the first time, not being trapped in a box of how you are expected to behave and look, is one of my favorite parts of life, so far.
Next to me, a high schooler held a perfume box carefully, like she didn’t trust herself to hold it without dropping it. She opened it to smell it again, waited, then smelled it one more time. I don’t think this is about deciding whether she should buy it. It’s about imagining. This is probably her first real perfume, not something borrowed or passed down. It feels like a marker of a new era. I remember doing the same thing once, standing in the store, convinced freshly cut bangs and a bottle of Sweet Like Candy by Ariana Grande could mean the beginning of something big and life-changing for me. I was right, it was the beginning of something big and life-changing. Not because of the perfume itself, but rather because handling small decisions like those strengthened my ability to navigate more difficult and challenging decisions. I gave myself the confidence to try new things and new situations in order to grow.Â
Somewhere in the line was a girl around my age. Maybe she’s in college. Maybe it’s her first year in the workforce. Who knows. Her basket holds concealer, mascara, and dry shampoo. Not crazy life-transforming products. Maintenance ones. The things you buy when you want to look and feel a little more like yourself again. She stood there alone. Checked her phone every few minutes. Eyed the bright and glittery eyeshadows and lip-glosses and blushes, but sighed and turned away. Too “grown” to allow herself to try them.
An older woman stood in front of me, holding a single bottle of foundation and a single tube of lipstick. She didn’t browse. She didn’t spend any time swatching the different shades. She knows exactly what she came in for. I watched her pull an empty bottle from her purse to double-check the shade name, like this was her routine. Probably for years. There’s something peaceful about watching someone reinvest in something tried and true instead of attempting to constantly rebrand or change. Watching her was a reminder that there is power in knowing yourself well enough to stay true to what works over ineffective glitz and glam. No second guesses. No hesitation. Having confidence in all your decisions, big or small.
Here’s the part that gets me. I’m not sure which woman I am in this line. I can see pieces of myself in all of them, but I don’t fully belong to any one yet. I have staple products that I swear by. I enjoy getting a new product and daydreaming about the new person I’m going to be after I leave the store. I usually end up buying “boring” maintenance items like face wash and shampoo, even when I want the bright pink lip gloss. Life is strange like that. When you’re in it, it doesn’t feel like you’re growing up. It feels like standing still while things shift around you. All of a sudden, you wake up and have bills to pay and a long-term partner (still waiting on that one personally). Bit by bit, habit by habit, choice by choice, you morph into the woman standing in front of someone else one day.
We live in a time where women are told to grow up fast but stay young forever. We’re marketed to relentlessly. New launches. New routines. New aesthetics. New insecurities we’re supposed to fix. It would be easy to write all of this off as shallow or materialistic. And you’d be right, a lot of it is. But standing in this line, it didn’t feel manufactured. It felt human. Most people aren’t chasing perfection. They’re choosing comfort. Familiarity. Curiosity. Joy and connection.
No one here is ahead or behind anyone else. Some of us are experimenting. Some of us are replenishing. Some of us are just trying to get through the week feeling a little more like us. Some are a mix of all three. The woman you are today is completely different from the woman you will be tomorrow, but you’ll carry pieces of her with you. The decisions you made in the past teach you how to make the decisions you face today.
Nevertheless, the line moves forward. Bags slide across the counter. People enter, and people leave. Everyone walks away with something small and personal to them in a bright orange bag.
Standing in this line, I feel unexpectedly optimistic. Not necessarily because whatever is being packaged into those bags solves anything immediately, but because it reminds me that changing and becoming don’t happen all at once. It happens quietly, slowly, in ordinary and everyday places, while you’re waiting your turn, experiencing the world around you.Â
P.S. This is not an ad for Ulta; they are just easier to drive to than Sephora. They also have a great points program, FYI.