The Funny Side: Massage

As many of you know, one of the many hats I wear is that of a licensed massage therapist—and yes, a legitimate one. I specialize in trauma recovery and myofascial release. What that really means is I run a professional, respectful practice. I don’t entertain inappropriate requests, and I don’t accept clients I haven’t properly screened.

My work often extends beyond simple bodywork—I treat entire families, from grandparents to infants. There’s a level of trust and care involved that I take very seriously. After twenty-eight years in bodywork, I’ve learned the difference between clients who understand and respect the profession, and those who don’t. The latter, unfortunately, can be dismissive or inappropriate, and it’s something I simply don’t tolerate. It’s not just unprofessional—it’s disrespectful.

Now, on a much lighter note…

I work in a beautiful practice here in Las Cruces where the walls don’t quite reach the ceiling. Apparently that’s a thing here—not so much where I’m from on the East Coast. It looks great…until you realized those types of walls do absolutely nothing to block sound.

Picture this: a session ends, I step out to wash my hands and grab water for my client, and suddenly the lobby becomes an unintended concert hall of flatulent sounds. From the tiniest grandpa to the most polished CEO, clients are hopping off the table, getting dressed… and letting it rip in every possible octave.

And yes, it echoes.

We try to drown it out with music, but let’s just say… nature finds a way. I’ve even overheard those in the lobby rating the performances on a scale from one to ten. It’s impossible not to laugh.

This is definitely the lighter side of the job—and I am deeply, deeply grateful that most people wait until I leave the room. Also, shoutout to essential oils and sage… truly doing the best work.

-Dezi Golden