Acupuncture’s analgesic effects aren’t just energetic: they’re cellular. From calming inflammation to modulating neurotransmitters like dopamine, adenosine, and serotonin, acupuncture works by helping your nervous and immune systems recalibrate. This post breaks down the science behind pain relief: vagus nerve activation, cytokine suppression, and why the location of the needle actually matters.

Your health shifts with the seasons. Public Acupuncture works with those changes, helping you move from spring’s surge to winter’s rest with steadiness and ease.

Every chair holds a story: stress relief, migraine recovery, fertility support, maintenance care. Public Acupuncture makes space for them all, without anyone saying a word.

Same medicine, two pathways. Public care is your steady heartbeat; private care is your focused tune-up. Together, they keep your system strong, adaptable, and resilient.

Healing lasts longer when you repeat it. Regular Public Acupuncture turns symptom relief into prevention, helping your body hold its balance instead of chasing it.

Six chairs, arranged for privacy. No talking, no noise… just stillness. Public Acupuncture is designed so you can arrive, rest, and let the medicine do its work in complete quiet.

Public acupuncture isn’t a one-time fix: it’s a rhythm your body learns. The more often you show up, the more your nervous system remembers how to settle, until “better” becomes your everyday.

Matriarchy isn’t chaos; it’s circulation. It’s building a life and business that actually hold, rooted in care, values, and continuity. From letting go of spaces that don’t fit, to launching Public Acupuncture, to creating rhythms that protect my body and my work, this is how I’m running a business in a high-rent, late-capitalist world without feeding the machine. We deserve to be well, to be supported, and to build things that last.

Facial Re:Cognition

Blog 3 of 3

What if releasing facial tension was an act of rebellion? This final post in the Facial Re:Cognition series explores how feminist facial ritual dismantles the grip of perfectionism and invites you back to your radiant, rooted, deeply human self: structure and all.

Facial Re:Cognition

Blog 2 of 3

This post explores how the five elements of Chinese Medicine function as relational tools (not aesthetic labels) within feminist facial work. Instead of diagnosing what’s wrong, we ask what’s been held, why, and how structure can be reclaimed through presence, not performance. This is matriarchal beauty: not a new standard, but a new relationship.

Facial Re:Cognition

Blog 1 of 3

Your face is a map of everything you’ve had to hold. In this post, we explore how patriarchy shows up as jaw clenching, collapsed posture, and facial tension, and how feminist facial work rooted in Chinese Medicine helps you soften, release, and remember yourself beneath the pressure.

Blog 9 of THIS MIGHT BE DENSE: AND OTHER STORIES ABOUT YOUR GIRLS

This final post in This Might Be Dense isn’t more data; it’s devotion. Download a self-guided ritual to connect with your breasts in tenderness, presence, and power.

Blog 2 of THIS MIGHT BE DENSE: and other stories about your girls

Breasts aren’t static objects. Learn how breast tissue actually works, how density affects pain and detection, and why knowing your body is a radical act.

Blog 1 of THIS MIGHT BE DENSE: and other stories about your girls

When breasts are claimed before you’ve claimed them yourself, embodiment becomes anti-patriarchy work. This blog is about reclaiming what’s always been yours.

Many people walk into a session expecting a beauty treatment.

They expect to be pampered, to receive something indulgent. And they do, but not in the way they thought.

Instead of walking out with a new mask, they leave having shed one.

Those feelings of wanting to take the easy way out when it comes to being human reflect Patriarchal Earth: Accumulation happens when we don’t do the work of maintenance (think about if you never vacuumed — dust and other gross things accumulate) and accumulation can feel heavy, so it then further diminishes our ability to maintain. (For anyone well versed in TCM: this is phlegm.)

TL;DR: WE’RE NOT IN THE PRACTICE OF TAKING CARE OF OURSELVES.

Suddenly, everything is too much: too loud, too bright, too… too.

The things you usually handle with ease — partner forgets to unload the dishwasher, leaving it to you; dog barks because a person deigns to walk past your house; coffee spills because you looked up while walking — feel unbearable.

You might think (or be conditioned to say and believe) that you’re irrational or overreacting, but the truth is far simpler: your body is responding exactly as it’s designed to during this phase of your cycle. The world isn’t any noisier or brighter; your ability to filter and tolerate it has simply shifted.

And while, based on the world we live in, that doesn’t feel ok, our bodies are still ok for doing it. I promise. Even though the world doesn’t have space for it, even though women are derided and chastised and any emotion is chalked up to PMS with a big eye roll, here’s my take on why feeling those things can actually help you move through the uncomfortable feelings, come out the other side, and better your world and the world around you because of it.

When faced with change (even something seemingly small, like relaxing a habitual facial expression) the nervous system often reacts with fear and rigidity. It perceives the unfamiliar as a threat. However, discomfort doesn’t always mean that something is wrong; it’s often an indicator of growth, especially within a safely held space.

Many of my current patients met me blonde — it’s how I’ve been most of my postpartum life — so now that I’m back to my natural color, I get the question, “Why did you choose to go so dark??” a LOT.

And the truth is, my hair has always been a reflection of the way I navigate life: a little chaotic, deeply intuitive, and rarely in a straight line. Every new shade or style has marked a transformation — of how I see myself, of what I’ve learned, and of the direction I’m moving toward. Becoming an acupuncturist was no different. It’s been a winding path, full of detours and reinventions, but looking back, I can see it all had to happen this way.