Paying someone to touch me

I got naked with my friend Nicole as a birthday gift from my rather attractive husband.

It’s not what you think, but I am sure the husband wouldn’t mind that being so.

My kids are ewwing loudly, and gagging, in my mind, while I’m typing this, before they ever lay eyes on it, and I make no apologies.

Getting naked with Nicole

I received a gift certificate for a massage for my birthday from the incredible Nicole, who has seen more Newtowners naked than there are naked Newtowners, if that makes any sense at all.

Years ago, I gave rather attractive husband a massage from the very same massage therapist, even though I myself had never had one, people were raving about her, and I figured, let him take her for a test-drive cuz this whole getting naked with a stranger isn’t really my deal, but I like to push him a little out of his comfort zone and it doesn’t take much, so I shoved him into this arrangement.

He loved it.

He was a virgin, at the time, a massage virgin, so kept his boxers on the entire time. Told me he didn’t know where to look or what to do, avoided eye contact at all cost, held his breath, and before he knew it, was snoring. She woke him when it was over and he said to her, and I quote:

“I don’t know whether to kiss you or pay you.”

Flash forward a decade later, and he finally reciprocated.

With me, not with her.

I got a gift certificate for the very same massage from the very same massage therapist who in the 10 years in between, had become a pretty good friend, blog fan, and GVP (gun violence prevention) ally, so getting naked with her was both better and worse because it was no longer a one-night-stand but instead a casual, consensual encounter with a friend.

Eh-hem.

After letting the gift certificate float in the bottom of my car for almost a year, I finally called and asked for an appointment. I had a lot of questions.

It’s my first time, and well, I don’t know what to do or where to go and what if my stomach growls or get a laughing fit or fart? Do I need to shave my legs? Should I shower? What if, I dunno, I’m under a lot of stress, do people, you know cry? I’m afraid I might cry.

“I’ve been doing massage for 20 years. There’s nothing I haven’t seen, you’ll do fine. I promise.”

So I went and got naked with Nicole. And I wasn’t just fine, I was completely and utterly fiiiiinnnneeee: my muscles, my mind, my soul. Afterwards, I was a piece of shit.

Couldn’t put on my bra.

Left my bag and had to go back for it.

Drank a ton of water, therapist’s orders, and took a nap.

Missed a deadline.

I was wasted and needed a DD to drive home.

Re-entry was hard — really hard.

When my mind finally cleared, I was sharp, focused and felt like I was on steroids and could change the world. Dare I say, happy. Or at least, happier.

Neuroscience says you should get a massage

Found this article about the four rituals of neuroscience that are scientifically proven to make you happy, and well, call me crazy and an elitist, but I’m a fan of science and research so SIGN ME UP because #4 says hugs. Or touch. Or massage.

Lacking hugs these days, I bartered with Nicole, and decided to not wait a decade between massages and instead am going every six to eight weeks for a tune up.

For my muscles, my mind, and my soul.

Highly recommend this. Nicole. The Upward Spiral book. Hugs. All of it. Some of it. Get naked and let somebody touch you. It’ll make you happy. Science proves it.

PS: Locals wanting Nicole’s contact info, HMU. She doesn’t have a website, she just has groupies.