It feels like the only fitting way to start this story:
It feels like the only fitting way to start this story:
I came out of the womb massaging.
And honestly, it might be more accurate than it sounds. I was born at home — not exactly the norm in 1989 — but my parents were ahead of their time. And now, all these years later, I’ve brought my business home. No pun intended, but I’ve never felt so at home, in every sense of the word.
The First Knots I Ever Found
One of my earliest core memories is sitting behind my friend Denise in primary school, massaging her little shoulders during reading time. I must’ve been about six. Something in me just knew what to do.
Then there was that family holiday in France — a Keycamp trip I’ll never forget. My dad had a headache, and I instinctively knew it was coming from his shoulders. I started massaging him, trying to relieve the tension. Years later, that little story made its way into my dad’s speech at my wedding. I’m not even sure how we got there, but he told everyone how, at just seven years old, I not only felt the knot — I felt what he was going through.
That part hasn’t changed.
Every single massage I give, I feel it.
It’s not something I have to think about. My hands know what to do — they’re drawn to where the body is holding on. I can feel where someone is carrying stress, grief, exhaustion, tension. My hands speak before words ever do.
The Diamond Within
The other day, while folding laundry (thanks to Atomic Habits for teaching me to pair chores with joy), I was listening to a podcast — the DOA CEO — and heard something that made me stop mid-sock-match. Vinh Giang, a public speaking expert, said that his grandparents believed every person is born with a diamond — a purpose.
In that moment, I just knew.
Massage is my diamond.
It’s what I came here to do.
It’s not just a job or a service. It’s connection. It’s care. It’s a form of presence that I am incredibly grateful to offer, and even more grateful to feel with every person who lays on my table.
More Than Skin Deep
We live in a world where it’s so common to invest in how we look — skin treatments, hair appointments, wardrobes — but what about what’s underneath?
That aching shoulder that keeps you up at night? It’s not just discomfort — it’s fatigue, brain fog, irritability. That tension you’ve been holding in your jaw? It changes the way you speak, the way you smile. Stress shapes our posture, our presence, even how we walk into a room. People think massage is a luxury — but what if it’s actually essential?
You deserve to feel good from the inside out.
You deserve to be cared for, held, and listened to — not just with words, but through touch, through presence.
Coming Home
Massage isn’t something I chose — it chose me.
And every time I see someone walk out of my treatment room lighter, calmer, brighter, I’m reminded why I do this.
Healing is a two-way street. Every session fills me with purpose.
So yes — I came out of the womb massaging.
And in a way, I think I’ve spent every day since coming back to that same sense of knowing:
This is where I’m meant to be.
This is home.
