One week from now I’ve scheduled something I’ve never done before: a massage.
It was a birthday gift from a friend more worldly than I. “It will change your life,” he promised.
And while I’m looking forward to it, I’m also a little nervous about it. I like having my back and shoulders rubbed, but generally by people I know and like. So the thought of paying someone to touch me makes me uneasy.
My friend must have must have sensed my hesitancy in March, three months after my birthday, when I was yet un-massaged.
“It’s been a whole season, girl!” he said.
And I promised him I would schedule it. But I still managed to put it off another three months. Now, in June, he gave an ultimatum: schedule it my June 15 or he’d re-gift it to a friend of ours.
“I should have gauged your massage-phobia before I gave it to you,” he said.
This blog post is part of my dealing with my massage-phobia. I have lots of unanswered questions, which is really all fear is, isn’t it. The unknown.
What kind of small talk do you make with someone who’s being paid to touch you? I have awkward conversations with my hairdresser, with waiters, with just about everyone, so I’m expecting this to be no different.
Are pleasure noises OK? Talk about awkward.
Will I have to be undressed? Worldly friend told me I can have on as much clothing as I want. I picture myself waiting for the masseuse, alone in a room with candles and soft music .(That’s the way it always is on television). Only instead of being naked under a sheet, I’m putting on more clothes than what I came in with. That’s OK, right?