Good Grief! Massage School Didn’t Prepare Us for This
There was a moment very early in my career that still sticks with me.
It was the day a patient walked into my treatment room and told me her husband had died two
weeks earlier.
My mind raced. My heart raced. And my very first coherent thought was: Massage school did
not prepare me for this.
Now, life had prepared me. I knew how to be a good human. I could listen. I could be kind. I
wasn’t afraid of emotion. But as a professional? There was a very real, very uncomfortable gap.
Because what do you do in that moment? What do you say? What does safe, appropriate,
clinical care even look like when someone is actively grieving?
So I did what most of us would do: I showed up. I did my best. And even still… I wondered if
there was something I could be doing differently. Doing better.
Over the years, I’ve realized something important: That moment wasn’t unusual. It wasn’t rare.
And it definitely wasn’t a one-off.
Grief shows up on our tables all the time. ALL. THE. TIME.
Sometimes it’s obvious — the recent death of a loved one. Sometimes it’s quieter — loss of
health, identity, relationships, capacity. But it’s there.
And here’s the problem:
We are not trained for it.
Massage education gives us anatomy, assessment, techniques, contraindications… all the things
we need to know to get out there and safely provide massages. But when it comes to grief?
We’re left to figure it out on our own, and many of us feel like we’re just winging it.
And in a culture that doesn’t exactly do grief well, it’s not easy.
We don’t talk about it. We don’t know what to say. So we either freeze… or we reach for
something well-meaning but trite (and deeply unhelpful).
But here’s the thing: grief isn’t just emotional. It’s a full-body, nervous-system experience. It
changes how someone experiences touch. Safety. Connection.
Which means — whether we feel prepared or not — our work intersects with grief more than
we think.
This is where grief-informed care comes in.
Not as an extra certification to collect.
Not as a way of stepping outside our scope.
But as a way of practicing that helps us:
• Understand what’s happening in the body and the brain
• Respond instead of react
• Communicate safety to our patients with our words and our presence
• Stay grounded, clear, and within scope
As massage and manual therapists, we are the perfect professionals to provide support to our
grieving patients. And you don’t have to keep winging it.
If you’ve ever had that moment — where a patient shares something big, and you think
“…Oh. I am not prepared for this.”
You’re not doing it wrong. You were just never taught.
And that’s something we can change.
If you’re a massage therapist and you want to feel more confident working with grieving
patients, this is exactly the kind of work I teach inside my courses.