What came first, the music or the misery?

I've definitely had technical malfunctions where the music turned off and I couldn't get to my phone or the speaker to fix it, so we continued the massage in silence. And I've had the client who asked if she could schedule her appointment at a very specific time so she could listen to her favorite program on NPR instead of music. I've had clients who prefer to listen to something they can ignore and I've had clients who just want the volume very low. But I've never had the client who requests no music. Until last weekend.

For the first few years of my career, I worked in places that either pumped their own music into the room or restricted me from playing any "music with words". I think we all know what I'm talking about when I say, "spa music". Lots of chimes and flutes and whale songs, you know what I mean. It got to a point where I had memorized every song on every spa soundtrack and would quietly hum along to them while I was working. Those whale sounds are a real vibe, let me tell you. I had a client once ask me if I had choreographed my massage to the music because it felt like I was moving in time with whatever whale happened to be singing. I hadn't but it made me more aware of how the music was affecting how I moved.

At a certain point, I started working in places where it was accepted and even encouraged to play my own music. At first I was nervous to share the music I found acceptable because, I mean, what a way to be judged. Like that moment on a first date when they ask you what kind of music you listen to and you just feel immediate shame and uncertainty in how to answer. Sorry, that's not a first date question, it's far too personal. For my massage playlists, I started out with things that I, myself, found to be relaxing and chill. Things like Sufjan Stevens, City and Colour, Bon Iver, Ray LaMontagne, Rachael Yamagata (my personal fav), etc. In the beginning, I just chose an artist and set it on their shuffled "station" on Pandora (yes, I'm ancient and I can't handle Spotify). But often, as Pandora tends to do, a completely random song would pop up that was too random, too upbeat, too distracting and I would have to either run to my phone to change it or quietly apologize to my client while I covertly tried to lean my forearms against their ears while I worked on their neck. So, I decided to take it back to my middle school days and start creating my own playlists like I was about to burn the sickest massage CDs ever.

My brother took me to my first concert in Portland at the Roseland when I was a wee teenager. Having grown up in small town Alaska, the metal detector and bouncers were completely overwhelming and I mostly just stared at the stage in terror and awe as my brother and even a bouncer, I think, tried to get me to dance. The concert was Hoobastank, because I know you're wondering, which was exciting to me because they currently had a hit song out for the SpiderMan movie. But the openers were the more intriguing bands for me. The next day, my brother took me to Music Millennium on E. Burnside and I immediately purchased CDs from Dredg and Phantom Planet. Quick PSA: Portland is a fucking amazing music town. Like, I know I live in Austin, the Live Music Capital of the World, but if you want some mosh pits and folky jam bands and spur-of-the-moment-weekday-concerts, Portland is the shit. And I miss it all the time.

The other amazing musical influence in my life was my roommate and good friend, Chelan, who introduced me to lots of good artists during my freshman year of college and even convinced me to do a radio show with her during our sophomore year. The radio station, KZUU, was run by the university and strictly played independent and underground artists (oh heyyy we played Bon Iver before it was cool and before anyone knew it was pronounced ee-vay). We were allowed to bring our laptops to copy the music in the studio and my music library and love grew exponentially.

These days, I take pride in the playlists that I create for my massage sessions and have been encouraged more and more as I get so much feedback about how good they are. I mean, I know, I spend a lot of time on them. I pull anything from current jams to things I loved in high school to instrumental hip-hop (massage therapists, this is a real game-changer when you aren't allowed to play "music with words"). Which is why it was straight up heartbreaking when my client requested no music. No. Music. I had the fan and the air filter running, so it wasn't silent, but come on. No music?! Not my jam.

Doesn't everyone love a happy ending?

    I woke up at 4am because I was having a nightmare. Well, not a nightmare. I wasn't scared but I was upset. It was a vivid, realistic dream and once it woke me up, I couldn't stop thinking about it. After trying all of my go-back-to-sleep tricks, I knew that my constant stream of thoughts wasn't going to let me. And what better thing to do with a constant stream of thoughts than to be productive and finish the blog post that I started a month ago.

    I'm going to go ahead and assume that anyone who's reading this knows what a "happy ending" in a massage implies and not take the liberty of defining it. Another thing that I always think I should be able to assume, but apparently isn't well-known is that licensed massage therapists do not offer happy endings. Let me repeat that: Licensed Massage Therapists Do. Not. Offer. Happy. Endings.

    Now, I've been lucky enough to have never been in a situation as a therapist where anyone asked or suggested this during a massage. But when I tell people that I'm a massage therapist, that is the main joke that I get in return. Oh, do you offer happy endings? *chuckles* No, Brad, do you offer happy endings at your accounting firm?

    I'm just going to go on a quick rant to let you know that I'm a licensed professional. I went to school for over a year, not only to learn massage techniques, but also anatomy, pathology, kinesiology, etc. That doesn't include the continuing education hours that I have to take to stay in compliance or the two tests I had to take just to apply to get my license. I'm also a member of a professional massage association.

    Anyways, someone calling me a masseuse instead of a massage therapist doesn't keep me up at night. That documentary about Jeffrey Epstein keeps me up at night. Obviously, the whole history is infuriating and terrifying. The thing that felt especially infuriating and scary to me was that massage was used as a ploy to get these girls entrenched in this life. Girls who thought giving a massage would be no big deal or actually showed interest in learning and becoming a massage therapist. Girls who were too young to realize the motives behind it.

    As someone who absolutely could have been one of those girls, I feel so protective of them. My interest in massage therapy started when I was in 8th grade and instead of being exploited, it was encouraged. A mentor for a class project taught me about muscles and basic massage techniques and how important therapeutic touch is. That stuck with me years later when I was driving up Grand Ave in Portland and saw the sign for East West College of the Healing Arts. I think about what might have happened if that had been used against me. I think about how much different these other girls' lives would have been if their interest had been nurtured the way mine was.

    Going over all of this in my head at 4am brought up a memory that I don't often think about because it makes me uncomfortable. It makes me uncomfortable because I don't want to pretend like anything as bad as Jeffrey Epstein happened to me and because I've moved past it at this point in my life. When I was about 15, my step-mom bought me a massage as a gift. When I called to make the appointment, the woman asked if I was okay with a male therapist. Being the shy, people-pleaser that I was, I told her yes even though my brain was screaming no. I was an awkward, hormonal teenager who had barely even had a boyfriend yet and I absolutely didn't want a strange man touching me but I was too afraid to hurt his fucking feelings by saying I didn't want a male therapist. So, I said okay and I went to the appointment. Near the end of the massage, I was laying on my back on the table, properly draped. I felt the therapist's hands on my shoulders, on my pecs. I felt his hands slide down my ribcage, underneath the sheet. I felt him follow the curve of my ribs, underneath my breasts. I felt him linger. He did that a few times on either side. I was tense and uncomfortable but I thought it was part of the massage. I trusted him as a professional. I never told anyone that story until I was in massage school and had finally realized that this was not a part of the massage.

    It makes me so angry that this man thought it was okay to do this to me. It makes me angry that he knew I would never say anything. It makes me angry that he is one of the people who puts a dark spot on the profession that I love so much and that he's not the only one. It makes me angry that this isn't an isolated incident and that almost every woman in the world has a story like this one or many stories like this one or worse stories than this one.

    I hope this encourages others to find their voice when something doesn't feel right and to pass that on to younger generations. And I want you to know that if you're ever uncomfortable in a massage, say something! The therapist will never be offended. Because, in the words of My Favorite Murder, fuck politeness.

Stay Grounded

I've gone to therapy off and on since I was a little kid. In elementary school, I would get pulled from class once a week to go play games and draw with the school counselor and talk about how I felt about my parents getting divorced. Later, my step-grandma would pick me up from school early once a month to take me to an outside therapist. At some point I started taking anti-depressants that made me feel nauseous and actually made me throw up in front of my entire geometry class my sophomore year. That's a fun story.

I'm not really sure what it was that made me dad feel like I was depressed or like I needed help. If he was just projecting his fears that I would be like my mother or if I was actually exhibiting signs that scared him. Honestly, I think I was just quiet and quirky and liked my alone time. But what do I know?

When I aged out of my dad's insurance, I stopped taking my anti-depressants (which you are absolutely not supposed to do cold turkey, don't ever do that). I thought that after all this time I knew how to control my anxiety and depression. Things to avoid that I knew were triggers. Things that helped me self-soothe. I was working at a gym as a massage therapist, so I started working out regularly and eating well. Despite some low moments, I've felt really good in the last 5 years without anti-depressants.

This past year, I was going through a low moment (winter is hard for me, even in Texas) and I decided I should try therapy again. And like a true millennial, I chose to do online therapy. It's a lot easier for me to share my feelings through writing. I'm able to arrange my thoughts and edit to get to the point in a way that just isn't possible when you're speaking in person. And I can do it whenever it's convenient for me from wherever I am.

Anyways, there's been a lot of digging deep on past traumas and why I've become the anxious, emotional person I am but I won't bore you with all of that. Instead, I want to share some of the grounding techniques that my therapist has shared with me that have been so helpful when I'm feeling anxious.

1. Look around you and name out loud the things you see. Name what color they are.
2. Sit quietly and touch all of the objects around you.
3. Listen to calming music or sounds (in the massage industry, we call this music without words).
4. Do one of your favorite self-care activities and say out loud what you're doing and that you're doing it as self-care for yourself.

The past couple of months have been crazy and I've been so grateful to have this person as a sounding board with so much knowledge and compassion to help me get through it. I've heard two schools of thought on this period of quarantine: if you don't come out of quarantine with a new skill, finished project, weight loss, etc, then you wasted your time; if you come out with no new skills, finished projects, weight loss, etc, that's okay! Be kind to yourself! Personally, I agree with both because I think you have to do what's right for you. Since March, I've had days where I was super productive and I've had days where I allowed myself to do nothing because doing anything just felt like too much.

Anyways... therapy helps, self-care is important, be kind to yourself!

COVID through the eyes of an LMT

Let's talk about feelings.

The past couple of months have held a lot of feelings. Good, bad, indifferent. It's been a real roller coaster and I'd like to very honestly share my path through it all so you don't think I just disappeared off the planet.

Pride & Excitement: The plan from the very beginning of massage school was to one day own my own business. After a couple of moves around the country and a lot of second-guessing myself, I decided to "flip the script," if you will, and actually go off on my own. Rented a space, bought supplies, created a website. The whole nine. All of the steps that I imagined as un-doable were actually falling into place. I was doing it. By myself. I just don't know how I can possibly describe the pride I felt as a shy outsider with low self-esteem who was creating her own niche in the world.

Optimistic: One client asked me if I was worried about "the virus" and I shook my head and said, "not really. I mean, I think if we get more cases in the United States, it's going to get tough. And if we get any cases here in Austin, I'm screwed." SXSW hadn't been canceled and I was still carting both my massage table and chair in the back of my car everywhere I went.

A second client asked me if I was worried about "the virus". "Yes and no," I told her, "I can't just be scared and stop doing what I'm doing." I laugh at my naive words now. Oh silly Lauren. You knew nothing back then. How I wish you could see what will happen in the next few weeks.

Dread: Matt's company had everyone start working from home. The massage school where I work part time started making plans for distance education. Clients became fewer and further between, only the ones who were deeply in pain or overly stressed coming in for massage. My cuticles and the tips of my fingers were raw from washing, re-washing, sanitizing, even more than usual. I held my breath while I worked. I began to notice how many things I touch every day.

Conflicted: Some massage therapists had closed, citing "the safety of myself and my clients". Some were soldiering on to help alleviate the stress of this strange season. I hadn't actually had a client in a week and I felt increasingly wary of scheduling any in the future. I cried to Matt, "I want to help my clients, but I don't want to be irresponsible!"

Panic & Sadness: I never scheduled another client after that. But what about my business? What about my livelihood? What about my home? There was a lot more crying. Great heaving sobs with lots of snot and honking nose-blowing. All of the curse words and salt spray on the ends of my eyelashes. Matt told me it would be okay. I didn't feel like it would be okay, but I had to keep going.

Perseverance: Trainers took their workouts online. Food and booze became pickup and delivery only. Zoom became the best thing since sliced bread. I, too, wanted to find a way to bring my practice online. Stretches? Self-care tips? Random massage knowledge? Sure, I'll have so much extra time and I'll focus all of my energy on that! But I didn't really relate with the strength and perseverance that everyone else was able to radiate online. I didn't feel all that hopeful in that moment and I didn't want to fake it.

Heartbreak: My table is all packed up and leaning against the railing in our entryway. The fitted sheets that I washed weeks ago are still sitting in a basket on top of the dryer. My lotion and cups are tucked into the back of the closet. I've stopped threatening Matt with massages. I haven't posted much on social media, definitely nothing very relevant to massage. Without touch, I felt useless. What do these stretches and tips mean if I can't feel the adhesions in the tissue? If I can't press my knuckles into someone's hamstrings or feel the way their breath changes? I felt - I feel - so far away and like a virtual consultation isn't the service that I can put my energy behind right now. I sent my friend in Portland the massage emoji and asked her, "can you feel that?" "Kind of," she replied. That made me smile, but I had to give myself permission to step away for a hot minute and focus on other things because all massage makes me feel right now is heartbreak.

There are a lot more emotions to come. With every day that passes, I'm excited to return to work but I still feel the frustration of being stuck in limbo. I feel worried about what growing a new business will look like after all of this. I feel lucky that I have a good support system and that I have time to enjoy the beautiful Texas spring weather.

I miss all of you, my wonderful clients, and I can't wait to see you again. While I'm not very actively creating content or sending things out, I'm happy to help you with any self-care tips you may need. Or if you just want to talk! I hope you're all doing well (even if maybe a little emotional sometimes)!