Kelly Whisman Licensed Massage Therapist

Your first massage, start to finish

What actually happens, what you take off, whether it hurts, and what to do if you hate it halfway through. Written for people who have never booked one.

Kelly Whisman, LMT

A quiet corner with a wooden chair, a pitcher of water and a potted plant, warm light falling across cream walls.

A surprising number of people put off booking a massage for years, and when I ask why, it is almost never about the massage. It is about not knowing the script. What do I take off. Where do I put my clothes. Am I supposed to talk. What if it hurts and I do not want to make a fuss.

So here is the whole thing, in order, with nothing left out.

Before you arrive

Nothing to prepare. Do not skip a meal, do not drink two litres of water, do not arrive early. If you filled in the booking form there is no paperwork waiting for you, because you already told me what I needed to know.

If you woke up with a fever, a stomach bug or a fresh injury you have not had looked at, call and move it. Rescheduling costs nothing and I would much rather see you next week.

The first ten minutes

We talk. Not a interrogation — mostly what is bothering you, what you have already tried, what you want out of the hour, and anything medical I should work around. This conversation is not taken out of your session time.

If you told me on the booking form that you would rather not chat, I will keep it brief and get on with it.

Getting on the table

I leave the room. You undress to whatever level you are comfortable with — most people keep underwear on, and that is completely normal. You get on the table under the sheet, usually face down to start, and pull the blanket over you if the room feels cool.

I knock before coming back in.

From that point you are covered by the sheet the entire session. Only the area I am working on is uncovered — one leg, or your back — and it is re-covered before I move on. Nobody is ever uncovered in a way they did not expect.

If undressing is the part that has been stopping you: say so. There is real work that can be done through clothing, and I would rather do that than not see you.

During

Some of it will feel very good. Some of it, if you have a stubborn area, will have a firm ache to it — the kind where you can feel something letting go. That is normal.

What is not normal, and not useful, is pain that makes you tense up or hold your breath. When that happens your body braces against the pressure and the tissue does not release, so we are both working against each other. Tell me and it changes immediately. You are not being difficult, you are giving me the single most useful piece of information available.

Things you are allowed to do without apologising: fall asleep, ask me to stop talking, ask me to talk more, ask for more or less pressure, ask for a blanket, need the bathroom, cry a bit. All of it happens, all of it is fine.

You can also end the session at any point, for any reason, and you will not be charged for time you did not use.

Afterwards

I leave the room again, you take your time getting up — sit for a moment first, because standing straight up can make you light-headed. Then we talk for a minute about what I found and whether anything is worth doing between now and next time.

You might feel a bit tender the next day, particularly after deeper work. Think of it as the feeling after a decent session at the gym rather than an injury. It passes in a day or so. Ordinary water and ordinary movement are all it needs.

The bit people ask last

Yes, it is fine to say you did not enjoy it. Different therapists suit different people, and there is no hard feeling in telling me the pressure was wrong or the approach was not what you wanted. I would far rather hear it than have you quietly never come back.

If any of this is still unclear, ring me on the number at the top of the page. Two minutes on the phone will settle it faster than any page I can write.