06/17/2025
I experienced some of the deepest grief of my life during massage therapy school.
There were days I showed up to class with tears still fresh on my face. Days when my body was present, but my heart felt shattered.
And somehow, in between anatomy lectures and practice massages, I learned how grief lives in the body.
It’s the tension you can’t stretch away.
The exhaustion that doesn’t lift, no matter how much you rest.
The tight chest, the lump in your throat, the heaviness in your limbs.
What surprised me the most was that touch—safe, intentional touch—began to soften what words couldn’t reach.
One day, during a practice session, I cried on the table.
Not just from the grief, but from the relief of someone reminding me:
“It’s okay. You’re allowed to feel this.”
Massage didn’t take my pain away, but it helped me feel like I wasn’t drowning in it.
It gave me space to just be.
No pressure to fix anything. No expectation to talk. Just a quiet invitation back into my body, one breath at a time.
If you’re grieving—recently or long ago—I see you.
You don’t have to go through it alone.
You deserve care. You deserve rest.
You deserve to feel held.
