My Journey into Massage

The Early Days

Massage before I had the words:

From as early as I can remember, I was massaging—my mum, my dad, my nana. I didn’t know the science behind it, but I could feel it: the way touch softened people, the way it reached past muscles and into something deeper.

Even then, I was fascinated by how a gentle hand could ease someone’s nervous system, even if I didn’t have those words for it yet.

Performing Arts meets Bodywork:

During my musical theatre training, that natural connection to bodywork kept showing up. I became the go-to person for a quick shoulder release during voice lessons.

But what really changed things for me was falling in love with my own self-care rituals. I started using massage balls and stretching—not just following the routines we were taught, but tuning in to what actually felt good for my body.

The stigma around pain and asking for help

Back then, admitting to pain or fatigue felt taboo. As a student in the performing arts, saying your body hurt made you feel untrustworthy—as if you weren’t strong enough for the job.

Seeking help from a physio or massage therapist felt indulgent, and honestly, out of budget. I carried that mindset for a long time.

Training at Level 3: A shift begins:

When I started my Level 3 Sports Massage course, I realised that stigma hadn’t disappeared. The “no pain, no gain” mentality was still going strong in the bodywork world.

But it didn’t sit right with me. If someone’s body is already stressed and their nervous system overwhelmed, why would adding more pressure help? It didn’t feel mindful—or healing.

Practising softer approaches in Clinic:

Now, in clinic, I talk about this shift all the time. More and more clients are open to a softer, more responsive way of working with the body.

One that meets them where they are, not where we think they should be.

One that says, “You don’t have to hurt more to heal.”

Level 5 and finding my People:

Even as I began practising, I knew Level 3 wasn’t enough. I felt under qualified and under confident—part imposter syndrome, part a genuine understanding that learning in this field never really stops.

In September 2023, I took a big step and began a Level 5 Diploma in Advanced Clinical Massage and a Level 4 in Sports Massage. I found myself surrounded by like-minded practitioners in Brighton—people who shared my values, frustrations, and passion.

We weren’t looking for cookie-cutter treatments. We were learning how to listen deeply, adapt our approaches, and build therapeutic relationships based on trust.

A Space to Exhale:

That training reminded me why I started this journey: to help people feel seen, supported, and respected in their bodies—whether they’re navigating chronic pain, popping in for maintenance, or just need space to exhale.

What I’m Learning Now:

I’m now working towards my Level 6 BTEC in Advanced Clinical Massage, due to finish in March 2027. It includes in-depth research and continues to stretch and inspire me.

I’ve added hot stone massage to my offerings and have a calendar full of CPD courses ahead:

• TMJ therapy

• Rib and thorax and abdomen work

• Positional release techniques

  
  

The learning never stops—and I love that.

My Greatest Teachers: Clients

Every single client teaches me something new. No two sessions are alike. Each person who walks into the treatment room reminds me of the depth and complexity of this work.

A Life rewritten by touch:

This journey has been about so much more than massage.

It’s about reconnecting with the part of me that found joy in helping others feel better.

It’s about honouring the body that carried me through years of training and letting go of the shame I once felt around needing care.It’s about creating a space—my clinic—where people are met exactly as they are.

A New Chapter:

I’ve worked all kinds of jobs: corporate desks, bars, theatres, customer service, front of house.

But every step brought me here—to this little business I built with my own two hands.

Earlier this year, I made peace with something big. I realised that performing no longer filled my cup.

So I let it go—not because I failed, but because I found something that fills me more.

I still carry those stage skills with me.

But my heart? It’s here now.

And the best part?

This is just the beginning.

Thank you for reading

Bethany Wynn