07/06/2025
THE DAY I KNEW I WAS MEANT TO BE AN HERBALIST
If you haven’t heard this story before, you’re in for a treat.
It’s the one where the plants grabbed me by the soul and didn’t let go.
I was in college at CU Boulder, doing what everyone else did: taking classes that didn’t mean much to me, studying hard, getting A’s… and feeling totally unfulfilled.
I was questioning everything.
I knew something wasn’t right, but I couldn’t name it yet.
I had the blessing of working with a Jungian psychologist.
Her work was all about finding meaning in the messages from the subconscious mind—and the collective unconscious that runs like a river through everything.
Let’s just say—she found the thread that would lead me home.
One day in her office, I was complaining about a yeast infection that just wouldn’t go away.
I’d been on the usual combo—Western meds, birth control pills—nothing was working.
She looked at me and asked, “Why aren’t you using herbs?”
I hadn’t even thought of it.
Even though my Ukrainian grandmothers used herbs for everything. Even though the knowledge was in my bloodline.
I hadn’t seen it yet.
That day, she sent me to find the local herbalist in Boulder—Brigitte Mars.
Brigitte was wild and radiant, just like she still is. She gave me the remedy she used, handed me herb jars to scoop from, and told me exactly what to do. Calendula. Goldenseal. Cornsilk. Rose petals. Usnea.
I went home and followed her instructions like a recipe for transformation.
Boil water. Mix the herbs. Drop the bowl in. Lid on.
And that’s when it happened.
A wave of scent and sensation hit me so hard I had to sit on the kitchen floor.
Something ancient moved through me.
My friends were shouting from the other room, “What is that smell?!”—but I couldn’t answer them.
I was somewhere else entirely.
That was the moment I knew.
I left my pre-med studies behind.
I signed up for Brigitte’s weekend class.
I packed my bags for a semester abroad in France—but filled my backpack with herb books instead of clothes.
While other students made pasta in youth hostels, I made herbal infusions from the pharmacies I wandered into.
I rinsed my hair with Nettles, drank Oatstraw tea for my nerves, and used Burdock for my skin.
I had found my calling—or maybe it had found me.
I came home early. Left the boyfriend. Enrolled in herb school in California.
By 21, I had finished three herb schools.
And by the time I was 23, I was working with clients.
That’s the real beginning.
The moment it all changed.
Some people get whispered to by the plants.
Others get smacked over the head by them.
That was me!