Getting a massage is an act of courage.
It might not look that way from the outside—someone lying quietly on a table, soft music playing, lights dimmed—but make no mistake: letting someone touch your body, even in a professional context, requires real trust.
I think about that every time someone walks into my space. I don’t take it lightly.
Whether a client is dealing with pain, stress, trauma, grief, or simply the need to feel human again, there’s always more going on than what’s written on the intake form. For some, the vulnerability comes from a history of trauma. For others, it’s body shame. For many, it’s the simple unfamiliarity of being cared for with no expectations or demands.
As a massage therapist, my job isn’t just to apply techniques. It’s to hold space—professionally, respectfully, and quietly—so that someone can feel safe enough to let go.
Here’s how I try to honor that:
- I explain everything I’m going to do before I do it.
- I remind clients they can speak up at any time—“stop,” “change,” “that’s enough.”
- I listen not just with my ears, but with my hands.
- I never push someone past what their body—or their spirit—is ready for.
Sometimes the most healing thing isn’t the massage itself. It’s the experience of being touched with care, dignity, and no agenda.
In this work, I’ve learned that bodies carry stories. And when someone lets me touch theirs, I feel grateful. Every session is a quiet, shared act of trust—and I try to meet that trust with deep respect, every single time.