Rachel Grace Young: A Love Letter to Plants & Pain 🌿💔

They say the heart is a garden—mine just happened to be fertilized with betrayal. 🌸🔥 Let me tell you how a woman who taught millions to thrive on plants nearly withered from love’s poison…

Before the cookbooks, the TEDx talks, and the Vogue features calling me "the haute couture of holistic health," I was just a girl in a too-small apartment, blending smoothies with one hand and wiping tears with the other. My ex? A charmer who swore he loved my "earthy vibe"—until I caught him "fermenting" with a CrossFit instructor in our bed. (Spoiler: Kombucha wasn’t the only thing bubbling that night. 🍵💥)

But darling, let’s rewind. My first heartbreak came at 22, when I traded steak for seitan and my carnivore boyfriend traded me for a Tinder girl who "actually ate real food." Joke’s on him—I built a empire on kale while he’s still microwaving frozen burgers. 🥬👑

Then came The Italian Disaster: a sculptor who whispered "mangia" like a love song… until he ghosted me for a woman who "understood carbs." (Fun fact: His "artisanal sourdough" was store-bought. Just like his affection. 🥖💔)

But here’s the twist—every wilted romance taught me resilience tastes better than revenge. I channeled the pain into Plant-Based Hedonism: where matcha lattes meet sequin jumpsuits, and heartache dissolves with adaptogenic cocktails. 💃🍸 Now, I teach women how to glow—inside and out—because the best revenge is being irresistibly alive.

So… hungry for more? Let’s feast on radical self-love. (And yes, I still cry into my nut cheese sometimes. We’re all a work in progress. 🌱✨)