I guess it all began organically— Pun absolutely intended.

As a kid, I wasn’t making mud pies—I was crafting elixirs. Twigs, rocks, pulled grass, abandoned petals and leaves, and yes, even worms—if it came from the earth, it went into my latest backyard creation. Little did I know, those dirt-stained hands were foreshadowing the path I’d walk decades later.

Fast forward to my teenage years, and my obsession had shifted from earthly concoctions to skin deep solutions. Acne ruled my life, and I was desperate for anything that could fix it. I tried every single product the shelves of CVS had to offer—because, let’s be honest, Sephora and Ulta weren’t around yet, but if they had been, I would have been their #1 customer. When the creams, washes, and spot treatments failed me, the doctors stepped in with their prescriptions—acne meds, antidepressants, anti-anxiety pills. It was a never-ending cycle of trying to fix something on the outside that was, deep down, screaming for attention on the inside.

I carried that silent battle for years—through a secret eating disorder, through hospital visits, through an emergency gallbladder removal before I even turned 18. My body was literally breaking down, waving the white flag, begging me to listen. But I didn’t know how.

At 18, I stepped into another world—the hair salon. I became a hairdresser, and now, 17 years later (you can do the math—haha!), I can honestly say, it has been one of the greatest gifts of my life. The women I have met, the stories I have heard—the triumphs and the heartbreaks—have shaped me. I have listened to their achievements—job promotions, engagements, buying their first home, becoming parents. And I have held space for their struggles—the death of a loved one, cancer, divorce, depression.

People are strong. Resilient. But even the strongest among us need support.

Between 20 and 28, I became a mother to three incredible daughters—my greatest, most soul-defining accomplishment. They changed me in ways I never expected, and they gave me clarity on what really matters. Our health.

And yet, the search for wellness continued.

The late nights, the exhaustion, the long work hours—I felt them all. And in the midst of motherhood, career, and survival, I became obsessed with finding the magic formula for feeling good. I went vegan, then paleo, then keto, then raw. I did CrossFit, hot yoga, green juicing, fasting, cayenne cleanses. I chased every single health trend. I kept thinking, “This will fix me.”

Then, I found herbalism, and everything shifted.

I realized something profound—none of us need “fixing.” We are not broken. We are not missing pieces. We are already whole, exactly as we are.

But sometimes, we get a little lost.

We take a wrong turn.

We keep driving on an empty gas tank, ignoring the flashing light on the dashboard, hoping we can push through just a little longer.

And eventually, we stall.

That’s when we need a helping hand—someone or something to point us in the right direction.

And sometimes? We’re so lost, so turned around, that we need a few helping hands and a little extra push to get back on course.

This is herbal medicine.

Somewhere along the way, we lost connection—to others, to ourselves, to nature.

Our modern world moves fast, leaving little time to pause, to feel, to truly listen to what our body is telling us. We ignore the whispers of discomfort, the gentle nudges, until suddenly—the symptoms are screaming.

And when the scream becomes all we hear, nothing else matters. That pain, that fatigue, that anxiety, that fog—it muffles everything else, drowning out the joy, the clarity, the presence we once had.

Herbs calm that muffle. They clear the smoke.

They don’t just mask symptoms; they bring us back to ourselves.

They clear space—physically, mentally, emotionally—so the body can do what it was designed to do: heal.

Herbs are matchmakers, my teacher Rich would always remind us.

They are that helping hand, that extra push, that gentle nudge back to balance.

They don’t fix you.

Because you were never broken.

They simply remind you of the wholeness that was always there.

And this is exactly why one size does not fit all.

So yes, certain health trends do hold some truth.

Like how Lion’s Mane is widely known for cognitive support—but that’s only if you actually need cognitive support. The $30 mushroom coffee at the supermarket? Yeah… that’s not exactly the real thing.

Or take Meadowsweet, known as the go-to herb for headaches and pain relief. And yes, it can help with headaches—it even contains compounds that oxidize into salicylic acid, the very foundation of aspirin. But where Meadowsweet truly thrives is in digestive support—soothing and healing the stomach lining, making it a powerhouse for conditions like heartburn and indigestion.

Now, if someone came to me for pain relief, would I reach for Meadowsweet first? “Depends” I’d more likely suggest Corydalis, a much stronger option for pain management.

This is the beauty of herbal medicine—it’s never one-size-fits-all.

Just like how the exact same hair color formula I put on Pam won’t look the same on Debbie. Different bases, different undertones, different needs.

Some of us need to clear toxic liver stagnation.

Some of us need to regulate blood circulation.

Some of us need to nourish our organs for better absorption to prevent deficiencies.

So if your daughter is struggling with teenage acne, or you want to balance your blood sugar, rid that unwanted weight gain, have more energy to go for that run (or just to get off the couch), if you’re dealing with hair loss, joint pain, brain fog, bruising easily, fatigue, anxiety, grief, asthma, bloating, overwhelmed, overstimulated, constipated—and everything in between—then maybe herbal medicine will meet your match.

Find your herbal match. Feel well. Be well. Do well.

And most importantly, thank the plants!