The Bodywork World Needs to Center Itself Around Trauma-Informed Care, or how firing a "chronically emotionally needy" client is NOT a best practice
They are missing what I hoped would be an obvious step. When a client exceeds our capacity and scope of practice, instead of firing them as if they are the problem, we might wonder if they need more and/or different supports.
I read an article in Massage & Bodywork Magazine entitled Emotional Release on the Massage Table. This is in an issue that also featured The Importance of Attuned and Compassionate Touch, so I had high hopes that the bodywork field was highlighting a trauma-informed approach to bodywork. While the article promises best practices for emotional releases that occur during a bodywork session, in actuality it does not offer a trauma-informed, sensitive, or compassionate standard of care.
This piece begins: “Massage therapists sometimes wind up with a client who is chronically emotionally needy.” The article has just begun, and already this sentence is judgmental and loaded. Let’s keep reading.
It goes on: “Other times, a client who is usually pleasant or reserved -and isn’t normally the type to share the details of their personal lives - may appear unusually upset. Perhaps they’ve just received bad news, had a death in the family, are going through a breakup, or lost a beloved pet.”
The author wonders aloud: “What are we to do?” and suggests that “In the case of the chronically needy client, the best thing you can do is release them as a client.” They are missing what I hoped would be an obvious step. When a client exceeds our capacity and scope of practice, instead of firing them as if they are the problem, we might wonder if they need more and/or different supports. While it’s true that we can’t be expected to be the right fit for each client, and while we can’t work outside of our professional scope of practice, we do have the ability to refer clients to other practitioners (whether a trauma-informed bodyworker or a therapist) that can better meet their needs.
There is one exception in the recommended knee-jerk reaction to fire a client prone to emotional releases. When it comes to a “usually pleasant or reserved” client, the author muses that they might be going through something traumatizing, such as a death, a breakup, or loss of a pet.
Why do they not extend this same kind curiosity to the “emotionally needy” client? It feels clear to me that if someone appears to be “chronically emotionally needy” - they have a lot of emotional needs, and the emotional needs are there for a reason and need attending to. (Hint: the reason might be Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.) Wouldn’t it make sense to wonder what THEY have been through? Instead, as happens all too frequently in healing arts and medical fields, folks in distress due to trauma are further distressed by an approach that is the opposite of trauma-informed, the judgments and narrow-mindedness adding insult to injury.
I wish our bodywork field would better equip practitioners with skills for working with clients who have experienced trauma. I have seen this short-sighted approach all too often in trainings, and in bodywork school, where we were told “not to let emotional releases happen” because they are out of the scope of practice. The fact is that some clients will have an emotional release on the table, and before we can have the conversation about making a possible referral, there is a human who needs our care and sensitivity in that moment.
I fear for massage therapists who read this article, and, rather than glean best practices for when emotional releases occur, ascertain that the approach depends on whether the client is “usually pleasant or reserved” or “chronically emotionally needy”.
For clients whose emotional releases on the table are considered “out-of-the-ordinary” - the article notes, ”you don’t need to do anything except be present and compassionate.” This is in stark contrast to the “emotionally needy” client, who they recommend firing. Where, may I ask, is the compassion for someone coming to us in turmoil and emotional distress? Why is the best practice of “just be kind and caring and provide a safe space for [the usually pleasant clients]” not also a best practice for all clients, including the “chronically needy”?
I also fear for clients who, like myself, often experience emotional release during massage sessions due to a history of Complex Trauma. While it’s unreasonable for massage therapists to be expected to be therapists, our standard of care should absolutely be trauma-informed and we should relate to folks experiencing pain (physical or emotional) with respect, professionalism, and sensitivity. Even if the best possible outcome is to no longer work with this client, it’s possible to treat clients with dignity, respect, and compassion. Even as we refer them to another provider because what they need is out of our scope of practice.
No matter a client’s history, demeanor, or likeliness to cry during a session: quality care is what we all deserve. I wish the world of bodywork would catch up. And it stands to reason: clients are waiting, too.
Touch is a Relationship
it’s not nothing, to receive bodywork. especially from new hands and a new practitioner. especially if we have a history that includes harm and violation via touch. especially if our nervous system is keyed up, our muscles guarded.
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it’s not nothing, to receive bodywork. especially from new hands and a new practitioner. especially if we have a history that includes harm and violation via touch. especially if our nervous system is keyed up, our muscles guarded.
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for some people, this isn’t a big deal. it’s no thing, to be massaged by someone, anyone. but for a lot of us, it’s the biggest dang deal. because our body and our skin and our nervous system remember things that have happened to us before. we bring those experiences with us into the session, onto the table, on our skin and under the sheets.
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often i remind first-time clients that we’re in a new relationship. trust doesn’t need to come right away. clients can decide how much touch (if any - somatic work can happen without touch, and same goes for energetics), what kind of touch, what pressure, all of that. clients might want to remain clothed, or keep more clothing on. this is all okay. accepted. allowed.
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often for the first massage we don’t do super deep work. it’s more of a hello. here i am, a therapist who is engaging in a relationship and negotiation with you around touch. i am gentle. i am always gentle (though potent) but especially gentle for the first session.
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touch is a relationship and there can be a lot to navigate within that therapeutic relationship. a lot is happening. more than touch is happening, because our physical contact touches deeper layers and because an alchemy exists between the client and practitioner. because, ideally the client and the bodyworker are co-regulating, a safe hum of the nervous systems syncing and connecting. and a safe container needs to be built to hold this hum.
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If touch is a lot for you, i see you. i am you. and in my role as a somatic practitioner and trauma-informed bodyworker, i honor the hell out of that.
You Don't Need to Survive Your Massage
You don’t need to survive your massage
✧if the pressure is too deep
✧if the pace is too fast
✧if you feel panicky while you’re “supposed” to be relaxing
Your bodywork session is for YOU.
You don’t need to survive your massage
✧if the pressure is too deep
✧if the pace is too fast
✧if you feel panicky while you’re “supposed” to be relaxing
Your bodywork session is for YOU. To meet your needs. Your body, your nervous system. A massage isn’t something to survive or endure. There’s enough of that in the world.
So if you find yourself pushing through, your bodyworker might be pushing too hard. Or there might be anxiety or big feelings on top of the muscles and tissues (and we’ll get to this part soon, pinky promise). It’s okay to ask for a pause. Ask for less pressure. Ask for more pressure. Change positions. Ask your bodyworker to slow down. Take a moment and get in touch with your breath and what’s coming up for you.
Whatever. You. Need.
It’s okay. Truly. Because a massage is not something to survive.
Let's Talk Bodywork and Massage
I like to use the word b o d y w o r k because it feels wider to me than what we think about when someone says massage. We might think about a relaxing swedish massage at a spa (fluffy robe, warm oil, long soothing strokes) or a sports/medical massage after an injury (deep tissue, trigger points, gentle stretching). But b o d y w o r k can be so very many things. It’s a wide world. It’s an ocean you can swim in.
Hi friends. I’m going to start sharing about trauma-informed b o d y w o r k, because it’s kind of my thing. Don’t worry, there will still be moody poems and memes because those are also my thing. We’ll get into what the heck trauma-informed bodywork is, how to begin when your body holds so much trauma you’ve avoided working with it, and we’ll explore massage myths.
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For now, let’s talk b o d y w o r k, which means: let’s talk massage because guess what they’re the same thing, basically.
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mirriam-webster says:
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mas·sage, noun: manipulation of tissues (as by rubbing, kneading, or tapping) with the hand or an instrument for relaxation or therapeutic purposes
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bodywork, noun: therapeutic touching or manipulation of the body by using specialized techniques
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I like to use the word b o d y w o r k because it feels wider to me than what we think about when someone says massage. We might think about a relaxing swedish massage at a spa (fluffy robe, warm oil, long soothing strokes) or a sports/medical massage after an injury (deep tissue, trigger points, gentle stretching). But b o d y w o r k can be so very many things. It’s a wide world. It’s an ocean you can swim in. There are modalities that are relaxing, energizing, clearing (on energetic, physical, and emotional levels), and rehabilitative. There are modalities rooted in different places in the world. There is probably a modality out there that works for you even if you haven’t found it yet.
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In my integrative massage sessions, I love to blend modalities to meet the client’s needs. I’m often turning to swedish massage (those soothing strokes for tight muscles and a weary nervous system), craniosacral therapy (gentle holds, like a steady anchor the body and nervous system can move around), and fascial unwinding (witnessing and supporting the unwinding of body-held and tissue-held patterns). My hands are always holding energy, but I don’t identify as an energy worker. It’s just something that is always happening, and often an alchemy between myself and a client.
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I hope this helps clarify what the heck I mean when I say b o d y w o r k. This isn’t the end-all be-all definition, it’s just mine. What’s yours?
notes for when we're in it
I was talking to a friend the other day. Well, crying to a friend the other day. I was feeling a little bit ledgey. Emotional. Drastic. In a precarious place. She didn’t try to talk me out of it. She just got up on the metaphorical ledge with me. Stood next to me. Stayed with me until I was ready to come down.
I was talking to a friend the other day. Well, crying to a friend the other day. I was feeling a little bit ledgey. Emotional. Drastic. In a precarious place. She didn’t try to talk me out of it. She just got up on the metaphorical ledge with me. Stood next to me. Stayed with me until I was ready to come down.
This is what we all need I think. Not someone to fast forward us, or slap a silver lining on it, or remind us that it will get better and this is all happening for a reason. Part of us knows all of that, but perhaps the loudest (the neediest) part of us is on the ledge and we just want someone to sit there beside us. Maybe with a hand on our shoulder. We’re asking: just be in it with us. We’re already in it and that’s hard but harder still is to be alone in it. Please, don’t leave us alone in it.
It is a gift to have a friend who will climb up onto the ledge. It is a gift to be this friend. Ledgewalkers and edgewalkers, I️ see you. I’m with you. It’s scary and hard and you’re really high up there and really deep down in it. I’ll sit with you, limbs trembling and wind whipping all around us. I won’t try to fix it or talk you down or point out the beautiful view. I’ll just be here. With you. For as long as it takes. We don’t have to go anywhere til you’re ready.
if your body was trespassed
content warning: sexual assault. please take care of yourself before, during and after if you decide to read.
content warning: sexual assault. please take care of yourself before, during and after if you decide to read.
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If things have happened to you. If Bad Things have happened to you. If fingers went somewhere without first asking, if fingers stayed even if you asked them not to, if it was something that wasn’t a finger, which doesn’t make it better or worse- just different. If you were young, if you were 32, if you were in a relationship, if you were on a date, if you were the baby or child someone was supposed to be protecting. If you can’t remember but your body does. If you remember all of these details that keep coming back to you, hauntingly: your noodly body on the hood of the car by the side of the road on the mountain and he’s saying: there’s a car coming, look like you’re alive.
If there’s two cars coming. If you were moaning. If you were split in two pieces, one ghost of you beside yourself (is this where the expression comes from- beside yourself?) and you in your body enough to get through it. If part of you (seemed? was? acted?) into it and part of you felt trespassed. If you didn’t have time to feel anything because you were calculating How To Keep Yourself Safe. If Keeping Yourself Safe should never have been your job.
If when it’s over (except it’s never really over, it lingers like campfire smoke still on you) you are blaming yourself, wondering why you put yourself in that position. If you know you didn’t put yourself in that position, a Bad Thing happened To You, but the thoughts still keep coming. If you think, I’m too old for this, as if there’s an age at which it’s acceptable, because there is not. If you were still seeing the person who was sweet and not right for you but never would have raped you. If you were raped, or just violated. If “just” doesn’t exist in this scenario.
If you drank so much because he kept handing you the klean kanteen. If you being drunker than him was part of the plan. If you had said something stronger like “what the fuck are you doing? why are you doing this?” (those words never left the inside of you and you imagine them there- a scream in a room with no one to listen, a piece of tropical fruit, sickly-sweet-rotting) what would he have done. If he asks, did I do something wrong. If he says, should we call it a night. If you pushed him off the side of the mountain.
If you drive him home. If you count the miles on your maps app. If you make the appropriate amount of small talk. If you are shivering but not from the cold. If, for better or worse (worse, worse, worse), your body knows how to survive this. If he across-the-car hugs you goodbye and hopes you had a good time, did you have a good time. If he keeps asking unanswerable questions. If the dissonance just sits there like sweat coming off his skin.
If you sob into your sheets. If a shower washes nothing clean. If while you lather soap you remember his hands and your body freezes, wilts. If you got through it, and you’re tired of getting through things. If you tell your friend you felt relatively safe. If he assaulted you, so how safe were you really. If you let yourself cry for the places he touched, the deeper places this touches. If your friend asks, how did you survive the drive home. If it’s the same way you’ve survived everything else.