The other night in bed I was reading about a little girl in China who was having her feet bound. Feet binding as you know, is the practice of purposely breaking a child’s bones, permanently disfiguring her feet, and making them appear freakishly small and petite.
Why did this practice exist?
To make her more “marriageable.”
As I read about the literal torture this little girl endured, it gave me even further clarity as to why self-massage is critical.
Because our bodies don’t belong to us.
We think they do intellectually, but how many times have you put up with pain in your body pain so that you could conform to the eyes of the patriarchy?
So that you could “fit in?”
Much like a grown woman trying to fit her foot into a child’s shoe.
Changing our thoughts and beliefs are a crucial first step in mending the broken bone of our reverence for the feminine body.
But physically reclaiming each and every square inch of your own personal cathedral is something only you can do.
Recently I released a brand new course called The Art Of Self Massage. While I’m super excited about it, I have received the same question from several people. To put it gracefully:
“Why the f*ck would I want to massage myself?”
Well, with a warm smile, let me tell you…
Actions speak louder than words, as they say.
When you lovingly massage your own body, you let her know with every stroke who her lover, her guardian, and her soulmate really is.
The love I feel for my body as a result of practicing self-love through massage is impossible to put into words….in a blog post.
Which is why I wrote a poem about the true love I feel for my body after massaging her head to toe.
You can download the poem by reading below, or clicking here for a free download.
And, if you’d like to experience this kind of unconditional love, rather than just read about it, click here to purchase The Art of Self Massage.
Body, I take you back.
Foot. I cradle the artistry that is you. I stroke your luscious pad first to touch the earth when I get out of bed, and I praise the toes that spring me forward into life. I tickle your bones like keys on a piano. I worship the weight of you, heel.
Calves, I now caress you. I grab at your flesh like a hungry child grabs at it’s mother’s skirt hem.
Thighs…the way you taper and tease at the knee, then fill up at the top like a vase of roses in full bloom, I bow to you.
For all the times, belly, that you have called to me from the truth of my gut, but I ignored your siren song because there was no evidence to back you up; I knead my hands deep into you now, like fists pressing into yeasty dough.
I want my hands, arms, apron and nose immersed in the flour that is you. I want you beneath, between, below, and behind my fingertips.
You envelop me, as I envelop you, and like a brown buttered biscuit slathered with honey, I cannot get enough of you.
For all the times breasts, that you have been slowly stolen by entitled eyes, I steal back your spheres of beauty with my very own hands.
I love you like a potter loves wet clay spinning under her fingers. You are safe under my wing, and when you unfurl from your canopy of lace at the end a long day, I will roll out a red carpet for you that lasts for miles.
Heart, for all the times you have been broken like pink construction paper ripped into confetti, I offer my touch as glitter glue.
Body, for all the times you have been pinched, smacked, leered, or whistled at without consent.
For all the times I tolerated it because I thought you belonged to them more than you do to me.
This is our reunion.
This is me trading in my terms for un-conditions in the way that I love you.
This is me taking the temple marble that was once dry and crumbling, and polishing it back to life.
With my own hands, body, I now take you back.
Only a few days Left To Save On Self Massage
There is only one week left to receive the introductory price of $99, before the course returns to it’s regular price of $197.
No, this course is not the same as laying on a massage table, because that would be putting your body in the hands of another.
Self love is no longer an intellectual concept but a physical, cellular one. My body feels infused with love and acceptance. Thank you.” – Sofia Torres De Chiappetta