The Migraine Spellbook: Rituals, Remedies, and the Plant Magic of Migraine Relief
Part I: The Vicious Cycle of Mind-Body Pain
Migraines are just the worst, aren’t they!? When it comes to hormone migraines, if you know you know. Folks who haven’t experienced the true horrors of migraine pain just don’t get it.
I began getting hormone-related migraines in my early thirties, after my third pregnancy. I’d lived with headaches since I first began bleeding—usually dull aches before or during my period, accompanied by fatigue, weakness, and mood swings. But only now and then did it flare into the kind of pain that deserved the name migraine.
Then, around age thirtytwo-thirtythree, something shifted. What had once been an occasional torment became a regular ordeal: full-blown, no-good, brutal migraines that flattened me for days and nights, often with vomiting, sensitivity to sound and light. The kind of migraines that won’t let you sleep but won’t let you live awake either.
I’m now forty, and it’s been nearly a decade of cycling through pain, hope, research, surrender, and resolve. As anyone who lives with chronic illness knows, it’s not a straight line. It’s Lady Fortuna’s wheel: sometimes rising toward the light, other times plunged into darkness again without warning. I call it the hormone migraine roller coaster.
Here's what the migraine roller coaster looks like for me: after a particularly brutal month—one of those episodes that leaves me weeping and covered with invisible bruises, like I’ve been hit by a truck and dragged through fire on the inside—I reach a breaking point. I enter warrior mode. I schedule appointments with specialists. I dive into research. I line up supplements like talismans. I make more herbal remedies. I take spoonfuls of vitex tincture, of black cohosh, wild yam, hoping for the elusive hormone balance. I read books on hormone balancing.I give up more things– sugar, dairy, gluten, black tea – anything that will make inflammation worse. I listen to podcasts. I recommit to daily self-hypnosis, mantras and visualizations. I track my cycle. I try every app. I hope.
Sometimes, it works. Something shifts. I start feeling better—but which thing made the difference? Was it the Vitex? More walking? A better mindset? I never quite know. I ride high in these times, like the character on the 6 of Wands in the Tarot with the lauren leaf crown, confident and glorying in my own success. But something in me is still on alert, like the side-eyeing horse in the card, looking like she knows this isn’t going to last.
And then, inevitably, it flares again. Maybe I got lazy. Maybe I slipped. Or maybe I did everything right and it still came for me. That’s the worst part—the feeling of powerlessness. And the losses: missed birthdays, canceled gatherings, skipped adventures. The haunting decision: do I cancel or push through?
The big ones are the worst, of course. But the slow-burn ones—the dull, foggy, aching days—are a different kind of thief. You’re technically functional, but everything feels hard. The fog dulls the edges of joy. The fatigue makes even the basics—cooking, walking, breathing—feel like labor. You want to care for yourself, but self-care becomes another mountain to climb.
The most insidious thing about ongoing pain from chronic illness is that it trains the nervous system to expect and create more pain. It’s a vicious loop: because I’m sensitive, I get more migraines; because I get more migraines, my system becomes even more sensitive. The cycle feeds itself. Doctors know this. Their answer? An escalator of pharmaceuticals, each with a longer list of side effects. Only after I’ve “failed” the antidepressants, the antiseizure drugs, the blood pressure meds—none of which were designed for migraine—do I qualify for the so-called “good stuff,” the new CGRP blockers everyone swears by. Are they as miraculous as they sound? I can’t say. I haven’t been willing to gamble my body on the long, grim gauntlet of drug experiments required to get there.
As an herbalist, I’ve always been drawn to natural alternatives—to gentler, more holistic ways of tending the body. It’s not that I’m anti-medication. I’ve tried the triptans. At first, they were miraculous. But soon I noticed the pattern: take one, feel better, and then—bam—the pain returns stronger, like the migraine’s revenge. I began to feel like I was borrowing against my future wellbeing. There was a time when I hoped the neurologists would have answers. I’ve sat in their cold waiting rooms, filled out all their paperwork. They ask questions like they’re cataloging furniture: "Try this? What about that?" They hand out prescriptions like raffle tickets. They rarely mention side effects or long-term consequences. I always leave feeling inspected but somehow unseen. Like I’ve failed somehow.
There was a time when I hoped the endocrinologist had answers. But I left his office feeling more defeated and more acutely aware of how little the medical establishment knows about hormone migraines and the deflated feeling of just having been “mansplained” about my body.
And yes, it’s true what they say: healing is a journey. Searching for relief has taken me down countless paths, each requiring changes in habits, patterns, and mindset. Many of those changes have helped. Some have demanded more effort than I can give in an ongoing kind of way. But I keep trying. I read more books. I increase doses of herbs. I tweak. I fall apart. I rise again. Sometimes I feel victorious—like I’ve cracked the code, like I’ve finally won. But the winds shift, the moon turns, and I’m right back in the pain cave.
So far, none of the things I’ve tried on my healing journey have led to the mythic holy grail—a perfect cure, a final liberation from migraine pain. I feel like I’ve tried everything I can do on my own, short of more prescription drugs. I’ve tried naturopaths, too. Once, in a low moment, I scraped together funds and hope and booked a visit. She required that I bring a list of all the supplements and herbs I had tried. My list was long. She took notes, booked a follow up, and even on the second appointment she didn’t seem to have answers I hadn’t already tried. She said I wasn’t tracking well enough. She gave me homework, handed me a fancy bottle of repackaged herbs I’d already used, and sent me on my way. I teared up on the way home, aching with disappointment. I don't know what I was expecting. I didn’t blame her for not having the answers. Maybe I was longing for someone to say: You’ve been doing this alone for a long time. Let me walk with you now. Let’s learn your rhythm together.
Maybe that’s a fantasy. But one thing is true: pain breeds longing.
And if hope and despair are the inevitable highs and lows on the chronic pain roller coaster, then longing is like the gears that pull the cart up the steep inclines. It’s the chug chug chug you feel as the cart pulls you up, strapped in. I suspect anyone with chronic illness knows this ride.
Living in Paradox – The Wisdom of the Wheel
When we ride the chronic pain roller coaster, we are trapped in a cycle that feels like an escape room, where pain is a puzzle to be solved, but the answer shifts each time you think you’ve grasped it. It’s beyond frustrating.
When we find ourselves experiencing life like this, we lose the bigger story of who we are, and we become defined by our illnesses, our pain, and our pursuit of answers and cures for it. But do you know what the real answer is? The key that will unlock the door of the escape room and get off the migraine coaster? The key is this: you must learn to live with paradox. There is no final cure, no linear healing path. And yet—there are better days. There is relief. There is rhythm. There is resilience.
This is what I call living in paradox—the art of holding truths that seem to contradict, and letting them all be real at once. Not one or the other. Not black or white. But the shimmering space between. This mindset has become one of the most powerful tools in my own healing—more enduring than any tincture or protocol.
See, with chronic pain, there are always multiple conflicting truths. Relief comes in learning to accept both realities at once. On one hand, there is no final cure, no linear healing path. And yet—there are better days. There is relief. There is rhythm. There is resilience.
This is what I call living in paradox—the art of holding truths that seem to contradict, and letting them all be real at once. Not one or the other. Not black or white. But the space between. This mindset has become one of the most powerful tools in my own healing, more enduring than any tincture or protocol.
This key can be found in the Tarot as well. To understand the teaching and illustrate it, I turn to the Wheel of Fortune card in Tarot.
In the center of the card is a great turning wheel—etched with alchemical symbols, Hebrew letters, and the word TARO, cycling endlessly through the mysteries of fate. Around the wheel are mythic beings: a lion, a bull, an eagle, and an angel—each reading from a sacred book. They represent the four fixed signs of the zodiac, the four directions, and the four elements. But they also represent perspective.
For those of us suffering with chronic pain, the lesson of the card is this: you can be in the wheel, spinning in chaos, or you can rise above it—like the winged ones—and witness the pattern.
When you live from the center of the wheel, you are caught in its relentless turn—one moment up, the next down. Hope. Despair. Certainty. Confusion. The storm is personal, consuming. But when you rise just a little higher, when you learn to watch the wheel without clinging to any single position, a new kind of grace emerges. You remember that the wheel always turns. Nothing stays stuck forever.
Living with migraines requires this kind of perception. It asks you to hold paradox with both hands and rest in the larger pattern.
Here are some of the paradoxes of pain as I have experienced them:
You are not in control. Control is an illusion. || You can be in control of some things. Taking back some control is healthy.
You will not defeat the pain. Pain is inevitable. || You can enjoy pain-free days. You are not stuck with pain.
Your efforts help || None of your efforts eliminate the problem completely.
No one is coming to save you. You have to dig deep and help yourself. || Help is always there. Ask for it and accept it.
Paradox doesn’t mean giving up. It means you can step outside the trap of binary thinking and learn to live with many truths at once. It means learning to zoom out on the story of your pain, and becoming the reader of the book, not just the character in the chapter. It means you can grieve and hope. Rest and strive. Trust the mystery and still show up with your full heart.
Part II: Herbal & Lifestyle Allies for Hormone Migraine Support
If you're reading this, maybe you're on the roller coaster too. Maybe you've tried all the things, or maybe you're just beginning to track the tides of your hormones. I don’t have a perfect cure, but I do have wisdom hard-earned from years of walking this path with plants, cycles, and spells. Living with the paradox of pain means that while I learn to accept that I may not have ultimate control to be able to banish hormone migraines, I can still take meaningful action to support my wellbeing and reduce my suffering.
Below are some of the most helpful things I’ve tried. These aren’t cure-alls, but they are the things I keep coming back to that seem to bring the best results. I think of these remedies like a ring of keys. Each one opens a different door. You may find a way out of the pain cave. You might find yourself back in there dark, but you can keep trying these keys, and the times you end up back there will get fewer and shorter. Try what calls to you. The path of chronic illness is circuitous and spiralling, and filled with illusions and mirrors.
Cycle Awareness as Divination
Every medical provider wants the data: How many migraines? How long? How often? Was there an aura? What symptoms? What helped? What didn’t? It’s a long list—and keeping up with it can feel like a full-time job, especially when you’re in pain. And when you’re not in pain, tracking is usually the last thing you want to do.
Some people swear by their Apple watches and health-tracking devices. They make data collection easy and automatic. But I’ve never liked the feeling of handing over my health to an algorithm. At the same time, tracking by hand—especially consistently—is a challenge for me too.
I don’t have a perfect solution. What I do have is a kind of truce: a combination of journaling and occasional app use. I’m not perfect about it, but I track enough to see the broad strokes. Over time, patterns begin to shimmer through.
I’ve never been good at math or clinical science—too many numbers, not enough soul. But here’s the truth: tracking your cycle is essential. It may not prevent the pain, but it gives you foresight—and foresight is power. When you start noticing the rhythm, you can prepare. You can make choices. You can reclaim agency from the storm.
The only kind of tracking I can sustain is the kind that feels like divination. I chart my cycle alongside the moon phases. I log moods and symptoms the way I record dreams or tarot spreads. In the margins of my journal: Bleed Day. Ovulation. Migraine. I note the emotional weather: brain fog, despair, clarity, restlessness, tenderness. This isn’t just medical data—it’s oracular language. It’s a map of my body’s mythic terrain.
Whether you use a paper chart, a lunar calendar, or an app like Migraine Buddy, the important thing is this: begin to notice. Patterns will emerge. And with them, clues. Clues that can help you reclaim a measure of magic—and control.
If this step feels difficult, remember that you only really need 3 months’ worth of data to have a clear picture of hormone and pain cycles.
Hypnotic Pathways – Rewiring the Pain Loop
One of the worst things about chronic or episodic migraines is that they wire the brain for more pain. Each migraine ripples through the nervous system, altering our perception of safety, sensitivity, and self. Over time, chronic pain lays down grooves in the brain, like ruts in a dirt road. These neural pathways become well-worn, making it easier for the migraine train to barrel through again and again. But here’s the good news: the brain can change. Even deeply ingrained pain patterns can be softened, rewired, and transformed.
This is where self-hypnosis and guided visualization can be so helpful.
Unlike the cinematic portrayals of hypnosis as mind control or trance magic, therapeutic hypnosis is simply a state of focused attention—something like dreaming with intention. When practiced regularly, it can interrupt the pain cycle, calm the overactive nervous system, and re-train your body’s responses to early migraine signals. A guided recording—especially one made just for you—can become a trusted companion on the journey. It can help you settle into rest when your body is in alarm. It can remind your brain that safety is still possible, even when pain clouds the sky.
One of my tried and true tools is imagining a calming, blue ball of light. Everything it touches turns calm, quiet, and pain-free. Like an anesthetic. I imagine this ball moving slowly throughout my body, bringing relief wherever it floats. If the pain in my head is very bad, I imagine it growing large enough to encompass my entire head. It really helps! When I do this for a few minutes, I am often able to drift off to sleep after.
Another common “tool” is imagining a dial of pain and inflammation in the control panel of your mind. You can turn it down to adjust the settings and reduce pain in your whole system. I’ve found great relief from this visualization as well. The key is to act as if it really works, and to imagine how it would feel if it did. This mental process alone is sometimes enough to turn the tide of a bad migraine or to make a severe one more tolerable.
For best results, I recommend working with a hypnotist or hypnotherapist who understands chronic pain and the hormonal landscape. They can craft a script tailored to your unique needs and teach you how to enter a healing state more easily over time. Once you have a recording, you can use it anytime—on the edge of an attack, in the thick of it, or in the quiet days between, to build resilience from the inside out.
This isn’t a cure, but it can be a powerful way to speak directly to the inner terrain where so much of migraine magic and migraine misery both reside. It’s a way of whispering to your nervous system: You are safe now. You don’t have to brace anymore. There’s another path through.
Plant Allies and Herbal Therapeutics for Migraine Relief
The following plants have proven track records as effective aids in treating hormonal migraine. You’ll notice that with the exception of California poppy and ginger, most of these are not pain-killers. While there are plenty of plants that alleviate pain, it's generally much safer to go with pharmaceutical medicine if you’re looking to relieve intense pain. However, the following herbal allies support hormone balance, relieve pms and menopause symptoms, nervous system toning and regulation, relieve and moderate inflammation, and have neuroprotective and restorative properties that can help with some of the more troubling cognitive impairments that come with migraines.
Most people, myself included, cannot manage taking this many herbs at once. From a western folk herbal tradition, it’s more effective to
✦ Vitex (Vitex agnus-castus)
Dose: 500–1000 mg daily (capsule), or 1–2 mL tincture each morning.
Science: Vitex helps regulate the menstrual cycle by modulating prolactin and supporting progesterone production. Clinical studies show reduced PMS and hormonal migraine symptoms (BMJ, 2013).
Medicine: A plant of rhythm and remembrance, Vitex restores balance in the luteal phase, the window where estrogen drops and migraines often strike. She doesn’t stop pain directly—but by harmonizing hormones, she shifts the storm pattern over time. Her magic is in the re-patterning.
✦ Black Cohosh (Actaea racemosa)
Dose: 20–40 mg/day of standardized extract, or 1–2 mL tincture, particularly during perimenopausal years.
Science: Black Cohosh has been shown to ease menopausal symptoms, including hot flashes and migraines, through serotonergic and potential phytoestrogenic action (Cochrane Review, 2010).
Medicine: She supports women through hormonal upheaval, especially in perimenopause when migraines can intensify. Black Cohosh helps smooth the erratic hormonal shifts that trigger head pain. Her work is indirect but profound—modulating the transitions that unseat us.
✦ Ginger (Zingiber officinale)
Dose: 500–1000 mg in capsules at onset, or 1–2 tsp freshly grated root in hot water, up to 3x daily.
Science: A 2014 study found ginger powder to be as effective as sumatriptan in reducing migraine pain within 2 hours (Phytotherapy Research).
Medicine: Ginger is a direct ally in the moment of attack—reducing inflammation, easing nausea, and promoting circulation to clear migraine-causing compounds from the brain. She works swiftly, interrupting the cascade of pain before it fully sets in.
✦ Skullcap (Scutellaria lateriflora)
Dose: 1–2 mL tincture as needed, up to 3x/day.
Science: Skullcap has demonstrated affinity for GABA receptors, helping to calm excitability in the central nervous system (Journal of Ethnopharmacology, 2003).
Medicine: Migraines often ride in on waves of tension, overstimulation, and nerve sensitivity. Skullcap eases the frayed, twitchy signals that precede a migraine, helping prevent the spiral or reduce its severity. She is peace distilled.
✦ Blue Vervain (Verbena hastata)
Dose: 1–2 mL tincture, up to 3x/day.
Science: Used traditionally for stress-induced tension, especially in the neck and shoulders—key physical migraine trigger zones.
Medicine: Blue Vervain unwinds the clenched muscles and mental loops that create pressure-cooker conditions for migraines. She is especially powerful when migraines are driven by perfectionism, pressure, or unexpressed emotions. She loosens what’s held too tightly.
✦ California Poppy (Eschscholzia californica)
Dose: 1–2 mL tincture before bed, or 300–500 mg capsule extract.
Science: Contains alkaloids that act on GABA and benzodiazepine receptors, supporting pain relief and sleep (HerbalGram, 2016).
Medicine: Pain and poor sleep often go hand in hand. California Poppy soothes the nervous system and eases the emotional shadows that accompany chronic migraine. She helps reduce pain sensitivity and improve rest—key tools in the long game of healing.
✦ Magnesium (glycinate preferred) & B2 (Riboflavin)
Dose: Magnesium glycinate: 300–400 mg/day; B2: 400 mg/day.
Science: Magnesium deficiency is linked to migraine frequency, and B2 has been shown to significantly reduce the number of attacks (Neurology, 1998; Headache, 2001).
Medicine: These are essential building blocks. Magnesium calms neurovascular spasms and reduces sensory hypersensitivity; B2 supports mitochondrial energy in the brain, lowering the chance of triggering an attack. Their support is subtle, steady, and cumulative.
✦ Ashwagandha (Withania somnifera)
Dose: 300–600 mg root extract (5% withanolides) twice daily, or 1–2 mL tincture up to 3x/day.
Science: Shown to lower cortisol and reduce perceived stress in multiple human studies (Indian Journal of Psychological Medicine, 2012).
Medicine: Ashwagandha helps prevent stress-induced migraines by modulating the HPA axis—our hormonal stress response. She doesn’t touch the pain directly, but she keeps the internal storm from gathering strength. She’s a daily shield for the chronically overwhelmed.
✦ Reishi (Ganoderma lucidum)
Dose: 1000–2000 mg/day capsule or 1–2 mL tincture.
Science: Reishi reduces inflammation, regulates immune response, and supports sleep—all factors relevant to chronic migraine (Frontiers in Pharmacology, 2020).
Medicine: Reishi tends to the terrain beneath the symptoms. She helps reduce the neuroinflammation that primes your brain for pain and supports deep sleep and immune balance, where the healing actually happens. Her magic is long-term and subterranean.
✦ Lion’s Mane (Hericium erinaceus)
Dose: 1000 mg/day of dual-extracted mushroom supplement.
Science: Increases Nerve Growth Factor (NGF), aiding cognitive clarity and nerve repair—especially after migraine-induced inflammation (International Journal of Molecular Sciences, 2020).
Medicine: Lion’s Mane is for the fog that lingers. For the days after the migraine has passed but your brain still feels half-lit. She rebuilds clarity and repairs the delicate threads of your cognition, so you can come back to yourself.
✦ Ginkgo (Ginkgo biloba)
Dose: 120–240 mg/day of standardized extract (24% flavone glycosides).
Science: Ginkgo improves blood flow to the brain and has shown success in reducing migraine frequency and aura in clinical trials (Phytomedicine, 2009).
Medicine: For migraines that start with a shimmer, a tingle, or a flash of aura—Ginkgo helps regulate cerebral blood flow and oxygen delivery, preventing the vascular constriction that often sets migraines in motion. She is both compass and current.
✦ Milky Oats (Avena sativa)
Dose: 1–5 mL tincture of the fresh milky tops, 1–3x/day. Best taken consistently for at least 3–4 weeks.
Science: Rich in minerals like calcium and magnesium, Milky Oats nourish the nervous system and help regulate the stress response. Studies have shown oat extracts support cognitive function and emotional resilience (Journal of Alternative and Complementary Medicine, 2011).
Medicine: Milky Oats are a slow infusion of comfort for the frazzled, depleted, and overwhelmed. While not a direct painkiller, they repair the baseline—rebuilding nervous system tone, buffering against stress-induced attacks, and helping your body hold its ground during hormonal swings. Think of them as nerve-food, rebuilding what chronic pain and fatigue deplete.
✦ CoQ10 (Coenzyme Q10)
Dose: 100–300 mg/day of ubiquinol (the more absorbable form).
Science: Multiple double-blind studies show that CoQ10 reduces migraine frequency and severity by supporting mitochondrial energy production in the brain (Neurology, 2005; Cephalalgia, 2011).
Medicine: CoQ10 is the spark plug in your cells' energy engines. Migraines are often linked to mitochondrial dysfunction—your brain quite literally runs out of fuel. CoQ10 restores that inner fire. It doesn’t chase the pain—it prevents the blackout before it begins.
✦ Magnesium Glycinate
Dose: 300–400 mg/day, ideally split between morning and evening.
Science: People with migraines are often deficient in magnesium, and studies show supplementation can reduce both the frequency and severity of attacks (Headache, 2001). Glycinate is one of the most absorbable, well-tolerated forms, especially gentle on sensitive systems.
Medicine: Magnesium is the mineral of relaxation, exhalation, and smooth transmission. It calms nerve firing, prevents blood vessel spasms, and regulates hormonal shifts—making it one of the most essential allies in the migraine toolkit. Glycinate is a more easily absorbed form of the mineral.
✦ Vitamin B2 (Riboflavin)
Dose: 400 mg/day, taken consistently for at least 3 months to see results.
Science: Riboflavin supports mitochondrial energy production. In clinical trials, it significantly reduced migraine frequency and duration, especially in those with hormonal and fatigue-related triggers (Neurology, 1998).
Medicine: Riboflavin is cellular sunlight. She fuels the engines inside your brain cells, preventing the energy crashes that can spiral into migraine. Quiet and bright, she is the guardian of endurance—especially when your light feels dimmed.
✦ 5-HTP (5-Hydroxytryptophan)
Dose: 50–100 mg up to 3x/day, often taken before meals or at bedtime. Begin with a low dose and increase slowly.
Science: 5-HTP is a precursor to serotonin, and studies show it may reduce migraine frequency by correcting serotonin imbalances, especially during the menstrual cycle (Cephalalgia, 1986; Headache, 1997).
Caution: Do not combine with SSRIs, MAOIs, or other serotonergic drugs without medical supervision.
Medicine: 5-HTP works in the soft places where emotion, chemistry, and energy intertwine. For the migraines that ride in on a drop in serotonin—those ones that come hand in hand with despair or sudden weeping—this ally may restore the bridge. Use with caution and precision of dosing and close monitoring for side effects.
✦ St. John’s Wort (Hypericum perforatum)
Dose: 300 mg extract standardized to 0.3% hypericin, taken 2–3x/day; or 2–4 mL tincture daily.
Science: Clinically proven to treat mild-to-moderate depression, and may support serotonin reuptake modulation—an indirect pathway relevant to some migraines (British Medical Journal, 2005).
Caution: Strongly interacts with medications (including birth control, SSRIs, blood thinners). Photosensitizing. Always check for interactions.
Medicine: A herb of sunlight and solar resilience. When your migraines come cloaked in gloom—especially the kind that deepen in winter or around emotional stress—St. John’s Wort may help uplift the mood and stabilize your inner light. She is golden and radiant but not without sharpness. This is sunlight as sword. She must be wielded wisely as this herb interacts with other medications. If you’re taking other medications, consult a doctor. Use with caution and precision of dosing and close monitoring for side effects.
Blood Sugar and the Alchemy of Nourishment
One thing has become increasingly clear: balancing hormones means balancing blood sugar. And for me, that’s been one of the hardest lessons. It’s far easier to pop a supplement or take pain meds than to untangle the lifetime of habits that drive inflammation and send blood sugar swinging. But over time, food has become one of my most powerful tools—for soothing the inflammatory fire beneath my migraines and bringing harmony to the hormonal tides.
I’ve come to recognize a cadence in eating that restores me. It doesn’t mean spending hours in the kitchen or cooking elaborate meals. It’s more about choosing rhythms that bring steadiness. Simple, nourishing food at the right times. Listening to what the body truly needs.
When I start the morning with protein and healthy fat—eggs with greens, a spoonful of yogurt, a slice of ezekiel bread with butter, a handful of almonds—I feel the ground return beneath me. My breath softens. Something in my system registers safety. I used to skip meals like lunch and grab whatever was quickest—pizza, caffeine, sugar bombs masquerading as snacks. I thought I didn’t have time. But now I understand the cost. When I forget to eat, the pain comes faster, and the fog sets in heavier.
There’s so much conflicting advice out there about how to eat—it’s overwhelming. I won’t pretend to have the one right answer. But I will say this: learning to keep my blood sugar steady has changed everything. I still get migraines, yes. But they come less often, and with less ferocity. And the days between are brighter, clearer. My mood and energy hold steadier ground.
Learning to read the signs of blood sugar swings—whether through a device or simple body awareness—can be illuminating. For most of us, it helps to begin meals with protein, healthy fats, and fibrous vegetables. Lots of protein. Warm, grounding foods: roasted roots, hard-boiled eggs, soft cheese, sliced chicken, beans, cucumbers. These are the staples I return to, the kitchen familiars I keep on hand for busy days. I allow for carbs, but lean toward complex ones—sweet potatoes, quinoa, brown rice, chickpea or lentil pasta—rather than anything white and refined.
There’s still room for pleasure. A little black tea. A square of dark chocolate. A spoonful of fruit. And yes, I indulge in treats like ice cream when I really want to. I don’t follow a rigid set of rules—I pay attention. I watch how my energy rises or dips after certain foods. Some days I miss the mark. Some days I graze or forget to cook altogether. But I always return. Feeding myself well is one of the oldest forms of spellwork I know. It’s how I honor the rhythms of this body I live in.
The Ginger Cure
Of all the tools in my migraine kit, ginger remains the one I reach for first. Hands down, it’s the best discovery I’ve made—simple, accessible, and surprisingly powerful. Science backs it up: several clinical studies have shown that ginger, when taken at the onset of a migraine, can be as effective as sumatriptan in reducing pain within two hours. One study published in Phytotherapy Research found that 250 mg of powdered ginger worked just as well as 50 mg of sumatriptan, with fewer side effects.
But here’s the truth—timing and preparation matter. A ginger tea bag steeped in hot water won’t cut it. To work like medicine, you have to catch the migraine early, and you have to take enough. It’s like intercepting a storm while the sky is still only whispering thunder.
There’s one ritual I return to again and again when I feel the migraine gathering. The shimmer behind the eye. The ache in the jaw. The heavy internal dip, like a low-pressure system settling over me. These are the early omens—my body’s way of saying, Prepare.
That’s when I go to the kitchen.
For me, only fresh ginger juice does the job. Not tea. Not capsules. It has to be raw, fiery, and immediate. I juice a few thick slices and pour it into a shot glass. Down the hatch. It burns a little. That’s how I know it’s working.
I keep ginger roots in the fridge like talismans. I think of them as guardians of the threshold. When the storm starts rising, I reach for the juicer—not with panic, but with reverence.
What I do next is part ritual, part somatic practice, part chemistry. It’s a way of tending myself with fire. And because it’s helped me—time and time again—I’ve created a ritual for you.
Banish the Storm: A Ginger Spell for Migraine Relief
For all you hormone migraine sufferers out there— take heart. Never underestimate the power of magic! You can follow all the advice from doctors, you can adopt the lifestyle changes I shared above, and you can even start experimenting with some of the herbal allies. But if you do one thing - try my ginger spell and see for yourself how powerful you are with the support of plants and magic.
To help you, I have decided to share a page from my spellbook. This is a downloadable grimoire page—a spell, a remedy, a ritual.
It includes:
The full ginger shot preparation
A somatic visualization to calm the nervous system
a powerful sigil to use for protection and migraine relief
An incantation to reclaim your body before the pain takes root
Use it as medicine. Use it as magic. Use it to reclaim the moment before the storm breaks.
✨ [Click here to receive the Ginger Spell PDF] ✨
(Sign up for my mailing list and the spellbook page will be delivered to your inbox.)