Knowing Your Good Hurt
If my touch hurts, it should be a good hurt. Only you know what that means.
My husband and I got engaged during an argument on a long, sweaty hike with mosquitoes.
Thankfully, we knew the love between us and I was happy to say yes, choosing him to be my favorite partner for long, sweaty hikes with mosquitoes.
This is an example of a good hurt; in the midst of the discomfort, I knew it was still healthy and productive and I followed my gut.
Before I learned my lesson, during a CrossFit workout I continued with an exercise I knew was hurting my body. I didn’t want to appear weak. A few hours later the muscles surrounding my elbow were filled with fluid and I could barely bend my arms.
This is an example of a bad hurt; in the midst of the discomfort, I knew it was unhealthy and unproductive and I ignored my gut.
Before a massage session I tell my massage clients: If my touch ever hurts, it should be a good hurt - and only you know what that means for your body today. If it goes beyond that, please tell me so I can adjust accordingly.
I invite my client’s voice into the session, reminding them they are in charge, helping them feel safe to speak:
Ouch. That’s too much. Stop.
They don’t even have to say please.
A tuned-in massage therapist will listen and respond accordingly: lightening the pressure, slowing the pace, or changing the area of focus.
If a massage offers your body an experience that goes beyond a good hurt, you have a right to feel safe and empowered to speak and be heard.
The same is true off the massage table.
When life offers a discomfort that crosses the line beyond a good hurt - the kind that feels unhealthy and unproductive - may we listen to our guts and seek safe (massage) spaces to feel supported to speak:
Ouch. That’s too much. Stop.
We don’t even have to say please.
(I think Ayla Nereo would agree. Once again, her beautiful voice makes an appearance in my writing with this very appropriate song, Vessel.)