My Story

I didn’t set out to leave conventional healthcare.

I spent over 15 years as a traditional retail pharmacist, and some of my most formative experiences were working in a large retail pharmacy in a low-income neighborhood—a true food desert.

Every day, I stood behind the counter watching the same cycle play out.

Patients would come in with carts full of processed foods, convenience foods, and “food-like substances”…
and then walk over to my counter to pick up medications for:

diabetes
high blood pressure
high cholesterol
acid reflux
pain
constipation
fatigue
depression

There was no time to ask deeper questions.

No space to talk about lifestyle, food, or root cause.

Just enough time to review:

the price
the side effects
and whether the medication was in stock

Most interactions turned into conversations about insurance copays or frustration over supply issues—things that directly impacted whether they could even take the medication.

And I remember thinking:

This isn’t healthcare.

It felt artificial.
Reactive.
Disconnected.

At the same time, I had young children at home.

And I became deeply aware of what I was putting in their bodies and on their bodies—in a way I never had before.

That's when something started to shift.

I found myself returning to the way I was raised as a Greek-American girl in a big family, multi-generational home anchored around a home-cooked meal at the dinner table.

My parents and grandparents were born in a village in Greece, where life revolved around:

food grown in season
meals prepared at home
movement woven into daily life
herbal teas and natural remedies
and a deep sense of family and community

Antibiotics and doctor visits were reserved for true emergencies.

Everything else was supported through how they lived.

And I began to see the contrast clearly:

What I was witnessing in the pharmacy was the modern version of
“a pill for every ill.”

And I was part of that system.

That misalignment became impossible to ignore.

Even with the security of a well-paid career—the “golden handcuffs”—
I knew I couldn’t continue practicing in a way that didn’t address what was actually driving people’s health.