The Story of Laya’s Touch
How It All Began
Laya’s Touch™ didn’t start in a salon. It started in my home—with the birth of my daughters. As a single mother of three girls, I paid close attention to everything I put on their bodies. I noticed how store-bought hair products made their scalps dry out, how their skin would react, and how nothing ever seemed to feel truly safe or nourishing. I knew I didn’t like what I was seeing—so I made a choice. I decided to learn how to care for their hair myself.
But what started as survival turned into something sacred. It wasn’t just about learning how to do hair—it was about helping my girls understand their connection to it. I wanted them to know that their hair wasn’t a burden, a problem, or something to fix. It was powerful. It was ancient. It was theirs. And I couldn’t teach them that until I learned it for myself.
Returning to What We Forgot
I was raised to think that good hair care meant straight styles, edge control, and making it “look right” on the outside—even when I didn’t feel right on the inside.
Living in a mostly white town made it even harder. The beauty standards didn’t reflect us. The classrooms didn’t understand us. One day, one of my daughters came home in tears because her hair didn’t fall straight down her back like the other girls’. She didn’t want her coils. She didn’t want to stand out.
And that moment broke me open. Because I realized it wasn’t enough to tell her she was beautiful—I had to show her. With my actions. With how I spoke to her crown. With how I treated my own. That’s when Laya’s Touch™ was born.
A Healing Space, A Sacred Mission
What started at my kitchen sink has grown into a sanctuary. A place where we care for the whole woman not just her hair. At Laya’s Touch, we focus on healing from the inside out. That means clean products, spiritual scalp care, protective styles with purpose, and teaching our clients to listen to the wisdom held in their roots.
This brand is more than a business—it’s a love story. A story about reclaiming beauty on our terms. A story about showing up as the woman I needed and the mother I wanted to be. A story about raising daughters who don’t have to unlearn their worth.
Because our crowns were never the problem. They just needed the right hands—and the right heart.