COVID-19 has stolen a lot from the world. People are experiencing illness and death, unemployment, cancelled plans, and fear of the uncertainty of the future. While this pandemic is not one to be taken lightly, it is teaching our society to be grateful for those we rely on, for the time we have with each other, and for the simple joys in life.
We have to be intentional with our friendships, and our money. We see the impact we've had on our environment, and how our absence has made the waters a little clearer, the air a little more breathable, and the animals a lot happier. We notice the longing that comes with wanting to reach out and touch someone, hug someone, kiss someone we love. We realize we've taken for granted the people who are risking their safety every day to ensure we have what we need. We are learning to embrace our natural looks, learn new skills, give grace to ourselves and others, and venture into the unknown world of Tik Tok and Tiger King (*Carole killed her husband).
Maybe we have the energy to start on our ever present to-do lists, or to call up old friends and family we haven't talked to in awhile. Maybe we only have the energy to make it through each day, and that's ok, too. Our lives have changed suddenly, our priorities shifting and our grief and fear colliding with an abundance of time to be trapped with. So while we are all feeling a little uncomfortable it's time for me to jump back into my blogs, because the world needs a little more light right now. So, let me tell you a story about the good ole' days when we could leave our houses, but I really wish I hadn't.
This was a time when we could go stroll the mall or shopping centers, maybe venture into a nail salon or a massage center, allowing ourselves to wander without a set destination. (Don't get jealous just yet). I happened to be at the mall with my mother, who is notorious for wandering for long periods of time. We pass a little massage center, one of those that "specializes" in a foot or back massage. I typically don't like strangers touching me, but my mom is begging that her feet hurt and it won't take long, so I oblige.
We tell them we'd like the foot massages and we're whisked off to the back (don't worry, it's not that kind of massage parlor). The setup is important, so I'm going to try to set the stage for you. Along the right side of the room were pedicure type chairs setup along the wall, with a little wall-like divider between each set of two chairs. Since my mom and I were together, we assumed we would be setup together in the two empty chairs at the back. We are both being led towards them (or so we thought) as I pass a man who has also chosen to get the foot massage, but isn't exactly loving me witness it. I divert my eye contact when suddenly the lady who had been leading me herds me into the chair right next to him. My mom and I make brief, terrified eye contact as she disappears around the other side of the wall divider. I sit down and glance over at the man next to me, who also looks horrified to have an audience, but my attention is quickly brought back to the woman who is now massaging my...legs? I'm starting to feel thankful that I was wearing athletic shorts, since apparently the foot massage included a calf massage, when the massage suddenly moves up to my thighs. I'm now completely red (or maybe very, very pale), frozen, one thousand different versions of what's about to happen running through my mind.
Do I yell out? Is that overly dramatic? Do I tell her I'm not comfortable with this? Do I ask her what kind of massage I'll be getting? Do I swat her hands away? Do I get up and run out? I look over at the guy next to me to see if he is also getting the thigh massage, but his masseuse is clearly only intending to work on his calves and feet as the man is wearing jeans that can only be scrunched up so far.
I glance back to my masseuse, terror still lurking in my eyes, and she makes eye contact with me and smiles. Do I not look SCARED ENOUGH? Then, as suddenly as her smile had vanished, she lifts both of my legs and pushes them to my shoulders. I'm not sure how to explain this decently, but I imagine it's a move that happens in labor and delivery rooms. With my legs spread apart and my ankles up above my head, I remember that I am not alone in this little divided section.
Eyes wide, I slowly turn my head to face the man in the chair next to me, to see that he is also wide-eyed looking back at me. In that moment, we both know that what we see here will never be spoken again. There's horror, yes, but also an understanding that by some twist of fate, we're living this nightmare together. My original thought that I was thankful to be wearing athletic shorts has dissipated, as now my chief concern is whether these athletic shorts are enough to cover my no-no square which is now the focal point of this chair toe touch. My immediate next thought being, what underwear did I put on this morning?!
Hoping against all hope it was a good, pretty pair, I realize what the masseuse has been doing. She is alternating in bending my legs one at a time, holding them up, holding them out, holding them to my chest, and FINALLY thank the Lord she puts them back in their rightful place and says "All done stretching." STRETCHING?! This was a foot massage, not a MARATHON WARM-UP. The man next to me is bright red, staring intently as his feet are massaged LIKE A NORMAL PERSON. My masseuse finishes off the stretching with a few minutes of the foot massage I actually paid for, which I cannot enjoy because I am so stunned by the events that have transpired. She says "All done!" as my mom walks around the corner to see me, giving me the subtle "Are you ok?" look.
I pass by a mirror on our way out and see that my face is completely white, and I look absolutely devoid of emotion. My eyes are blank, my face is blank, but my hands are balled into little fists as my body is still working through that fight or flight response. As we exit the store I ask my mom if she experienced any stretching, or thigh massaging, and her eyes get really big as she says "No! Is that what happened to you?" I slowly nod, fear still settling in my eyes, as I look back into the store at the man I shared this with. We make eye contact and do a quick nod, solidifying the bond we made but would never speak of again. Until now, that is.
At the time, this felt incredibly humiliating and violated so many of my personal space boundaries. BUT, it taught me it's ok to say no. Sometimes, HELL NO. It's hard to identify when someone is crossing a line if they cross it a little bit at a time, because you aren't sure how long it will last, or if they even mean to. But one second of something that crosses your line, no matter how little or much, is enough to say no thank you.
This event happened several years ago, but since then I have cultivated the confidence to say no and mean it. To not be afraid of the backlash, if any, that comes of it. Because I know how it feels to have a foot massage turn into a calf massage turn into a thigh massage turn into a split eagle stretching exercise, and I would rather be in an uncomfortable moment because of my "no" than an uncomfortable moment in a massage center with a strange man and my ankles above my head. I'll take the awkward no every. single. time.
I'm grateful to not only have learned that lesson, but to be able to reminisce, even on the bizarre experiences, of life before "shelter-in-place." The simple things we miss are the things I hope we can cherish with a little more appreciation when the pandemic is over, so today I urge you to focus on gratitude, finding your no...and lots of stretching. Now, go watch Tiger King if you haven't already, you cool cats and kittens.
xoxo,
Bold Babe