And a message to my close friends.
Last week, I went to get a haircut, and my barber shared his story with me — or rather, a piece of it, but one that says a lot about who he is. It’s a story I’ll probably carry with me for a long time, so I decided to post it here.
But first, some context.
This summer, we moved to a new neighborhood — still in Madrid, just a bit farther from the center — and that meant I had to find a new barber. It was a bit of a shame because Yender, my previous one, had been cutting my hair for at least five years, and he was really good. But for the sake of convenience — and to be honest, out of laziness to drive thirty minutes back and forth (plus the time to find parking) — I felt motivated to take on this new adventure.
For many people, a barber is sacred, someone you’d never replace for anything in the world.
For me, a nomad who falls in love with change, it felt like the perfect opportunity.
Now, Samuel1— my new barber — is one of those people you can have a deep conversation with and somehow understand each other instantly, as if you’d known each other forever. It happens to me quite often, and by coincidence, when you start digging into people’s stories, you realize how much you share.
With Samuel, I discovered that we both come from humble families; that we both had to start working very young to support them; that we both learned early that hard work (and later, hard work focused on the right battles) eventually pays off; and that all of this made us dreamers — and ambitious ones.
Samuel is Argentinian, 42 years old, and one of the 400,000 Argentinians who emigrated to Spain in 2024. His story is fascinating, but there’s one detail I want to highlight here.
Back in Argentina, his hard work allowed him to open his own barbershop, which over time became successful — so much so that it gave him a comfortable lifestyle. He even managed to send his eldest son to study in the U.S.
But last year, for obvious reasons, he was forced to emigrate with his partner and two daughters to Spain, in search of a better future for them all. To finance the move, they had to sell everything — the barbershop, the car, the house, everything.
He told me that when he started informing his clients about his decision to emigrate, many asked him:
“But at 42, are you sure you want to move to a new country and start from scratch?”
“Are you sure you want to go back to working for someone else?”
I remembered something that Chris Williamson once said:
“Give a man a purpose and the ability to achieve it, and he will crawl over broken glass with a smile.”
You do what has to be done — until it’s done.
During our conversation, I could tell he’s already planning to open his own barbershop again, and I’m 100% sure he’ll make it happen.
At 42, he sacrificed everything he had built to start over.
Sometimes, my friends ask me if, at 28, it’s too late to change careers, move abroad, or start a business.
What do you think Samuel would say?
May his story inspire you — as it did me.
Thanks, Samuel.
- For privacy, let’s call him Samuel.