The prospect of getting a massage is always nice.

Oh, we are going to relax. Take care of some tense muscles. Get some de-stressing going. One of those self-care indulgences people talk about as though the moment you lie down, your nervous system will simply understand the assignment.

But for certain people, like the Aldrins of the world, massages are nice and all, but when you are actually in one, it is hard to let go.

Physically relax.

Turn your brain off.

Let a stranger touch you in places no one usually ever touches.

There is nothing actually natural about that.

They are twisting and bending and applying pressure, but there is no way they know how it feels from your end.

They always ask, “Pressure okay?”

And I never know how to answer that.

I guess I have a very specific pressure level where it is hard to say if something is too much or too little. So I always say medium, because that is the middle ground, right?

But medium is not one thing.

The pressure probably needs to change depending on whether they are working on your shoulders or feet or neck or back or lower back. You cannot just apply one universal setting to the entire body and hope for the best.

Maybe that is just the quality of the masseuse. Or the places I frequent.

Then they touch something that is not erogenous, exactly, but ticklish, and now you are resisting the urge to laugh.

Or they get too far, or too near your unmentionables, and you are all but stopping yourself from saying, “Huwag na diyan, ate.”

And once you have had that thought, you are no longer relaxed. And you’re now having to flip the on/off switch to relax in different parts of your body.

Maybe a massage only really works when the person doing it is someone you completely trust and are very familiar with.

But how familiar?

These are professionals. The distance has to be a thing.

Still, it is hard to relax when someone you do not know is moving your limbs around and pressing into your body while you lie there trying to act like this is the most normal thing in the world.

I know some people can just turn off.

That always amazes me.

In the next booth, there is usually someone snoring like they have entered deep sleep.

I do not know whether that is a compliment to the masseuse because the massage is so good they got completely relaxed, or whether they are just asleep and cannot even feel what is happening anymore.

Maybe that is what I need to achieve.

Completely let go. Fall asleep. Stop resisting, physically and mentally.

But I do not know how people get there.

I usually come out of massages thinking, It was good, I guess.

Never: That was amazing. We are doing that again.

It is never like that.

Maybe this is just something I am not wired for.

Maybe I have not found the right place or the right masseuse or the right kind of massage that I would swear by the way other people do.

I am trying to keep an open mind.

Maybe I need to do it more often that it becomes routine and less of novel pursuit I have to overthink everytime.

I only get one once or twice a year, never with the kind of frequency some people apparently manage. Once a month. Once a week, even.

I do not know if I have that kind of time or money to spare on a weekly massage.

Hang on. Why is a stranger folding me like laundry?

Maybe this is revealing something about my relationship with physical touch.

Because objectively, massages are weird.

You’re almost naked.

Someone you’ve never met has permission to touch nearly every muscle in your body.

You’re expected to surrender control.

If you described that setup without mentioning the word massage, it would sound like the opening scene of a very different story.

And yet there is nothing remotely sexy about it.

It’s clinical.

Professional.

Which makes me wonder if physical touch and intimacy have almost nothing to do with each other.

Because this is probably one of the most physically vulnerable situations I willingly (and paid) to put myself in.

And I still do not know if the point is to feel better after, or to somehow become the kind of person who can relax while it is happening. ◼️