Lindsay Juarez

I came to Massage because of my mom. I didn’t know it at the time, and for years I would have said it was because I hated retail, or because I loved helping people. The anatomy is fascinating, and being able to help people feel less pain in their bodies is a kind of drug. But if I go deeper, it’s because of my mom. My mom was the youngest of four, the child of abusive alcoholics. She was sexually assaulted early in life. She had surgery for scoliosis in high school and didn’t let a Harrington...

I’ve read a few think pieces about how massage needs saving. One was technically a Facebook rant, so I’m being generous calling it a think piece. The argument usually goes like this: Massage has an identity crisis. We don’t know where we belong. We’re not taken seriously. We need clearer placement inside the medical system. And it’s true, our profession spans a lot: Oncology massage, Post-surgical recovery, High-performance athletes, Hospice patients, Torticollis babies, High-end wellness...

I self-identify as an overachiever: former gifted kid, perfectionist. I’ve always worked too hard, tried too much, overscheduled myself—etc, etc. A lot of my burnout was self-inflicted. Yes, I was operating under scripts I’d absorbed from capitalism and patriarchy: my worth is what I do ; women should be quiet . Those beliefs created a chaotic inner world—like a duck on water, calm to everyone else while panicking just below the surface. Learning massage often follows a predictable arc. You...