From Minerals to Medicine: A Remembering
Sometimes Healing Happens in Breadcrumbs
Not in a straight line, but in whispers, nudges, and remembering.
I was around 12, sitting in my aunt’s kitchen when I first learned that the body could speak.
We were standing in a circle, holding little jars of minerals. Someone explained that if you closed your eyes and fell forward, it meant your body needed what you were holding. I didn’t question it then. I just filed it away somewhere deep, one of those strange, sacred moments that doesn't make sense until much later.
That memory stayed tucked away.
By 18, my body was already speaking in louder ways with diagnoses piling up like a list I didn’t ask for:
PCOS, Rheumatoid Arthritis, Hypothyroid, Eczema.
Each one came with its own warning label.
“You should probably find a new career if you don’t want to be crippled.”
“There’s no need to test your hormones again. You already have a PCOS diagnosis.”
Those words stuck, but so did something else… my mom's voice echoing,
“Always advocate for yourself.”
So I did. At 20, I started questioning everything: the foods I ate, the pills I was handed, even the thoughts I let loop in my mind. Somewhere in the unraveling, I met a Naturopathic Doctor who handed me a book called I Feel Guilty When I Say No. That title alone cracked something open. I started to understand that emotions weren’t just mental, but they lived in the tissues, in the silence, in the yeses I didn’t actually want to say.
One day, with my phone in my hand and headphones in my ears a podcast randomly starting playing. (God wink) It was an interview talking about something called The Emotion Code. I had never heard of it, but I downloaded the book on the spot.
Not long after, I went to a new practitioner for nutrition response testing, which uses muscle testing to determine what the body needs. In the middle of the session, he looked at me and asked, “Have you ever heard of the Emotion Code?”
Ironically, I had just finished the book. He told me he’d just started practicing it, and asked if I’d like to try it.
Another breadcrumb. Another remembering.
Not long after that, I found myself in the jungle of Costa Rica on a trauma healing retreat laying on a table under the canopy of green, with my now-psychotherapist holding space beside me. She paused and asked gently,
“Do you know what muscle testing is?”
I smiled and told her I’d been doing nutrition response testing recently. There it was again, full circle.
A thread pulled tight across time… All the way back to that kitchen table, where a younger me leaned toward the minerals her body craved.
Not random. Not coincidence.
A map.
That first retreat was back in 2022.
From that moment on, something shifted. It was like I could suddenly see the breadcrumbs in reverse, all the moments that had led me here, not as accidents, not as random curiosities, but as a carefully-woven path laid by something greater.
That’s the magic of trust. When you soften into it, life starts revealing its map.
You realize you were never lost.
You were just being led.
For me, that retreat opened a portal. It was the first time I sat with Bufo— a medicine that cracked me open and showed me
there’s far more to this life than I had ever imagined.
I remember someone saying to me,
“And you thought you were just a hairstylist.”
That line still lives in me.
Because it was never just about hair, but always about transformation, and this this moment was the beginning of a deeper calling.
The work I do now, supporting others through emotional release, nervous system healing, and sacred remembrance— is rooted in that 12-year-old girl leaning toward the minerals, the 20-year-old questioning her diagnosis, and the woman I became when I chose to trust what couldn’t be seen, but always felt.
This is why I do what I do.
Because the body remembers.
Because the soul is always speaking.
And because sometimes, healing looks like following breadcrumbs
into the wild, wondrous path of your own becoming.
