It has been months since I last gave a full one hour Swedish massage, and tonight reminded me how much I miss practicing my craft outside of work.
My fiance, Trevor, has been working long hours lately, and his body has been feeling the effects. Knowing how much he aches, I moved my twin bed to the middle of the room and gave him a Swedish massage. Within the first ten minutes, he was fast asleep. I took that as a sign that his body desperately needed the opportunity to relax and recover.
As I worked, I found myself thinking about something I have wanted for a long time: having a proper massage table in our first home together. It may seem like a small thing, but to me, it represents more than just a piece of equipment. It represents my profession, my identity, and the work I have spent nearly three decades learning to do.
I have worked in retail, sales, food service, concession stands, and factories, among other jobs. Those experiences have been part of my journey, but massage therapy is where I feel I truly belong. I am a massage therapist by training and by calling, and I want to continue building a life around the profession I love.
My hope is to eventually set aside enough money to return to massage school, complete the necessary requirements, and obtain my massage therapy license in Hawaiʻi. I want the opportunity to continue practicing my profession there, too, and to bring my experience and skills to a place that holds meaning for our future.
For now, I will keep working, saving, and taking things one step at a time. Someday, I hope to have a massage table in our own home and the opportunity to pursue my profession in Hawaiʻi. Until then, even a twin bed in the middle of the room will do.
After all, a massage therapist does not stop being a massage therapist just because the table is missing.
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