My teenager looked me dead in the eye the other day and said,
“Mom, why are you so salty lately?”
…Excuse me?
Salty?
Honey, this is not attitude. This is Kidney Yin Deficiency with a side of existential fatigue.
You think this mood swing is about your dirty dishes? No. It’s about my dwindling reserves of Essence.
Later that night, I told my acupuncturist friend Sarah over FaceTime.
She almost spit out her tea.
“Oh no,” she said, “you’ve hit the ‘salty’ stage. Classic Yin decline.”
We both lost it.
Because honestly, between perimenopause, parenting, and pretending we still have hobbies, our Yin has packed its bags and moved to Bali.
“Mom, you used to be fun,” my daughter said.
Sweetheart, I am fun.
I just need eight hours of sleep, zero responsibility, and two uninterrupted cups of coffee to access it.
In TCM terms, my Yin is evaporating faster than my patience.
You try regulating hormones, cooking from scratch, working, studying, and being everyone’s emotional support human and see how your Kidneys are doing.
Sarah says, “You need goji berries and early bedtimes.”
I say, “I need a month long retreat where my days are filled with spa treatments, acupuncture, yoga and tea with my besties.”
She says, “Honestly, we all do.”
We start diagnosing ourselves and everyone we know:
- Me: Kidney Yin deficiency with Liver Yang rising (translation: tired and feisty).
- Her: Spleen Qi deficiency (translation: snacky and stressed).
- Our kids: pure Heat in the Heart channel (translation: TikTok brain).
You know you’ve reached another tier of acupuncturist parenting when you stop yelling and start explaining your emotions in organ theory.
I told my daughter, “You’re mistaking moodiness for pathology.”
She rolled her eyes so hard I swear I heard her Liver Qi stagnate.
So yeah, maybe I am as salty as a Covered Bridge potato chip.
But I’m also wise, dry humoured, and my yin is running on empty.
When you see me meditating with a mug of bone broth, mind your business. I’m rebuilding Essence.
Next time your kid calls you moody, just smile and say:
“It’s not hormones, sweetheart. It’s a constitutional imbalance.”
Then steep yourself some Three Treasures Tea, text your best friend, and remember — you’re not losing it. You’re just low on Yin.
A Gentle Note: I’m a student of Traditional Chinese Medicine, and this space reflects my learning as it unfolds. TCM is deep, layered, and complex, and I’m still finding my footing within it. I will refine my understanding over time. I will make mistakes. That’s part of doing this honestly. What I share here is my current perspective, shaped by my teachers, clinical training, lived experience, and my own biases. It’s not absolute, it’s evolving. I welcome thoughtful conversation, shared insight, and respectful correction along the way. I humbly welcome your insight. Let’s learn together. You can always find me over on Instagram to keep the conversation going.