This winter was a very busy winter for massage. As winter tends to be. You may be surprised to hear, but my workplace has been in relatively normal full-swing this whole pandemic. We were closed down a couple of times, but beyond that, it’s business as usual and we are fortunate to be a very busy and regularly booked place. I am fortunate, I know. I have been at the same job for over 18 years and in the same field for 22 years, with a couple of maternity leaves and a few scattered “extra” jobs thrown in here and there, and a brief dip into Personal Fitness training (for about 8 years combined, in the middle). But I massage. I think I’m probably pretty okay at it. I have limited desire to upgrade and I am kind of bitchy about the regular upgrading credits required (Time. Money. Overall disinterest.) I have many, many reasons to be grateful. I enjoy my career 90% of the time and it has brought fantastic people into my life. That being said, it is sometimes a real pain in the thumb joint! Sometimes people are demanding and the schedule is hectic and it is hard on your body. After an especially busy winter season this year I started to feel a tad burnt out and started to wonder what exactly I wanted to do with the rest of my life.
Don’t get me wrong, I have no immediate plans to leave massage and well assume I’ll be at it for another 5 years (at least!) but then what? I am 43. I’ve been doing this for half of my life. It’s hard. Oh boo-hoo, it’s not “Hard” hard like my boyfriend who works 10-14 hour days outside and lifts heavy things and often has no break for lunch or knowledge of when he is getting off that day, hard. But it’s not easy. My thumbs hurt often. My neck and upper back and wrists and all the parts I use to make other people’s parts less sore, are sore! I do get regular massages. I do keep active and have a healthy lifestyle (which is probably why I have been doing this so long!) but it is hard in its own way. And people! Yes, I am lucky to have predominately lovely clients and work with lovely people. But sometimes they are not (the clients, not the co-workers). Some people are like “I’d like a 90 minute hot stone massage; but no hot stones…and don’t touch my feet…and I can only lay face down for 17 minutes…and could you use these special Elephant tears for oil, because I’m allergic to everything else?” Some have breath that smells like they chewed on a diaper before arriving (No, wearing masks doesn’t prevent noticing that!) Some are like “You can go deeper”, while you are just putting on the oil…
Ok, please don’t get me wrong, most people really are lovely. I have heard interesting stories, helped wonderful people, spent countless hours in silence with beautiful energy, and I know that I get the honor of being someone’s birthday gift, or moment to relax, or the person who makes that arm stop aching. It is really, overall, great. But, like I say, I’m 43. Am I going to be massaging 20-25 people a week until I’m 70? I have friends who are in their 60’s but they started closer to my age…they didn’t start at 22 years old. And most are tapering off now, massaging less; working 3 days a week, etc. So then what? What do I want to be when I grow up?
This winter I had that very thought. Sure, I have this pipe dream of running some small coffee shop with my partner; where we have minimal food items and great coffee and a sweet atmosphere; where we get to enjoy baking and small batch cooking and wonderful coffee and good vibes from our loyal patrons. I also have ALWAYS wanted to own my own small and comfortable gym. Bare bones and easy going; weights, cardio, community and welcoming. But gyms and coffee shops are huge risks and not especially smart and solid plans.
Before massage, I wanted to go into prosthetics and orthotics. I actually upgraded my Physics and applied but didn’t get in (it’s highly competitive and you better be bringing some top grades, and possibly already have a degree to even be considered!) I also considered nursing but was like: Long hours! Stress! Shift work!… No thanks! But this winter I mentally revisited the nursing concept. I am older now; I can wrap my head around the things that held me back at 21. I also realized that a 4 year degree is daunting but would allow me to ease out of massage and into a new profession that could give me a whole new direction for the next half of my life. So I applied. I applied and stressed and realized that I would exist on student loans and part time massage and total support (mental/emotional/partially financial) from my boyfriend. I also decided that 2022 had to be the year of becoming financially untangled from my ex. So, you know; go big or go home, kind of decisions.
If you are up on my situation, you know that I share a house with my ex. Long story short: He needed the house for his business, we didn’t want the kids to move and be uprooted, I moved out. This was a good plan at the time…but now its 4 years later, we still both pay 50% of the house and its basic costs. (And share a small debt load that is in both of our names). Yes, the kids have not had to move. Yes, he gets to run his business. But also…I pay half a house I don’t live in, along with my own rent and personal expenses. It’s heavy, and sometimes hard, but honestly, I’d do it until both our kids were grown and flown the coup, if it wasn’t also a financial strain, a potential thorn in my current relationship, and just overall a weight that makes me stuck treading water, unable to truly move on.
So anyway, I applied to Nursing school (University) and raised the not ridiculous or unreasonable expectation that by this spring I want the house, sold or bought out and the debt gone; and that final financial-tie severed. Go hard or go home! And those close to me, that knew, were very encouraging. It felt wonderful that all my closest friends immediately said that I’d make a great nurse, because it made me feel like they saw a thing in me that I don’t always see.
I then sat to hurry up and wait as I contemplated if going to nursing school was even what I wanted. Do I want homework and course load and exams at this stage in my life? Do I want thousands of dollars in student loan debt? Can I even get student loans? How does working part time look and is it feasible while earning a degree? What happens when/if we move in the summer and suddenly have more expenses and everyone is uprooted? How do I tell my boss that I’ve decided to do this? How do I face the change and grapple with my feelings of loyalty vs. doing what may be best for my body/future/career/financial wellness?
Then early this week I got a letter that stated that I am not eligible for the nursing program because I am lacking grade 12 Chemistry! Yep. I somehow paid the $100 application fee and had my high school transcripts sent in (from 1996!) while somehow neglecting to notice the clear as day missing prerequisite of Chemistry 12. So I looked into what it meant to upgrade and turns out I not only need Chemistry 12 but also Chemistry 11 in order to take Chemistry 12! AND does this guarantee entry? No Sir! I would spend time and money taking high school Chemistry then be pitted against the pool of average applicants and possibly (probably) not even get in. I did the calls and the looking into all this and realized that, no; I don’t want to do that.
Yes I felt somewhat disappointed that my “average” grades and lack of taking every core science 26 years ago bit me in the ass as a middle aged lady. Yes, I felt dumbfounded that I have 22 years in a para-medical profession; have taken lots of training and alternative studies (not to mention gained two and a half decades of life experience, people skills and bedside manor) only to be judged by the grades and lacking of my 17 year old self! But I then felt relief. I felt relief that I wasn’t going to face student loan debt and lose half my income and face studies and 4(!!) years of school. I felt relief that I could look at this year as the year of financial freedom and place my focus on the house and holdings of my former marriage, and not take on a whole other huge and looming stress-extravaganza. I felt like universe, or whatever, was like “Listen here Lady! You don’t need this right now”. My mom offered the true yet simple line that “Sometimes NO is the best choice”.
So now I massage and it’s fine; better than fine, really. I am faced with the timely choice to love the one I’m with (for now). I am relieved to not break some unspoken and heavy loyalty to my employer. I am relieved to consider that I can deal with the hard and stressful house stuff (and, again, SO lucky that my ex and I have a wonderful and amicable relationship!) and also talk moving and plans with my boyfriend. I can look at next year to start considering my “exit plan” and what I want to move towards once massage no longer serves me. Maybe the answer doesn’t involve my 1996 high school transcripts. Maybe the answer is in my current self and my current set of skills and abilities. But either way, I have taken what I’ve been given and I am okay. Also, it gave me even more anecdotal parenting lecture potential to advise my kids to leave all the doors open, take all the courses, get all the grades…because someday you may want to do some midlife career change and your dumb 17 year old self is how you’ll be judged. But isn’t that the way: “If you don’t look back and realize that you were an idiot, then you’re still an idiot”.
Periscopecake 