(aka chaos, matcha & clinical brilliance)

Welcome to the part of the internet where your hygienist randomly gets emotional at 2am, wakes up at 6am, scrolls memes instead of journaling, and still remembers your bleeding score better than your name.

Hi, I’m a millennial Gemini RDH. And if you think that’s chaotic… you’d be absolutely right.

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Who TF Am I?

I’m a licensed dental hygienist with a degree, a beagle-shaped hole in my heart, and a digital empire in the making.

Monday through Wednesday, I probe gums.
Thursday through Sunday, I design PDFs, avoid adulthood, rewatch 2000s sitcoms, and have full-blown life epiphanies in the Trader Joe’s parking lot.

I believe oral inflammation is real, flossing is a love language, and sometimes having a mini-breakdown in your operatory is simply… the vibe.

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5 Signs You Might Be a Gemini RDH

• You color-code your trays but haven’t opened your mail in two months.

• You diagnose gingivitis while deciding whether or not to cut your own bangs.

• You alternate between eerie silence and 30-minute patient TED Talks.

• You resent when patients lie about flossing—but just bought a tongue scraper in three colors.

• You can spot a 5mm pocket with your eyes closed but can’t find your debit card in your tote.

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A Typical Clinical Day in Gemini Millennial Energy

7:30am – Show up to work with a protein bar, iced coffee or matcha, and a quiet grudge against humanity. Smile anyway.
8:00am – Seat first patient. Start with, “How’s home care been?” knowing full well I’ll hear, “I floss… sometimes.” Internal monologue: Girl, same.
10:15am – Whisper encouragement to myself in the sterilization room like I’m starting the season finale of my own sitcom.
11:45am – Mentally plan a Pinterest pin between bites of lunch, contemplating whether dental TikTok fame is my destiny.
1:00pm – Give a rousing speech about plaque control while holding a prophy angle like it’s a microphone.
2:15pm – Patient: “This might be TMI, but—”
Me: “No sis, spill the tea. I live for this.”
4:30pm – Pretend I didn’t go emotional emo in the restroom at 10:17am. Still charted like a legend.
5:15pm – Drive home blasting Wannabe by the Spice Girls, screaming:
“I really really really wanna hear you say you floss.”

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Healing Doesn’t Look Like You Think It Does

It’s not yoga retreats and green juice every morning.

Sometimes it’s Googling what Canva Pro actually does at 9:47pm with a heated pad on your uterus. Sometimes it’s writing a blog post with a zit patch on, whispering affirmations to your Canva drafts.

Healing, for me, is digital.
But it’s also:
-sunlight on my face
-warm lemon water in the morning
-skipping texts without guilt
️️️-resting without performance

It’s branding.
It’s letting my neurodivergent chaos become passive income.
It’s remembering I’m not “too much”—I’m just multi-core processing.

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What’s Next (Besides Probable Burnout & Creative Glory)

I’m building:
A blog.
A digital shop.
A space for other RDHs and chaotic humans to feel less alone.

I’m doing it in crocs and comfiness.
With iced matcha.
On underperforming WiFi.
Using a baller desktop computer with features I absolutely do not understand—but click anyway. And somehow, magic happens.

And I’m doing it all with the firm belief that my gumline is the real ring of power.

So whether you’re here for the clinical insight, the chaos, or the catharsis—stay tuned. This millennial Gemini RDH?
She’s just getting started.

P.S. If you’re here to heal your gums and your gut at the same time, grab my Healing Snack Companion Guide.
It’s my go-to for hormone-supportive, anti-inflammatory snack inspo—aka soft power in PDF form.