I never knew it would feel so good to say no when for so many years I was all about yes.

I would rudely answer the phone at dinner and other inappropriate times in case it was potential work. Now when the phone rings or a text beeps with a request for massage on the other end, the answer is “no.”

Lake Tahoe promotional massage photo circa 2007. (Image: Taylor Flynn)

This month marks 28 years since I graduated from massage school. It was a pretty intense 10 months considering I was working full time as an editor at the San Francisco Examiner. I graduated with more than 500 hours of training at a time when California only required 100 hours to be a certified massage therapist.

While I’m not exactly folding up my table for good, I am limiting my practice to two women in their 90s—one of whom is my mom.

In the fall I started saying no to non-regular clients and newbies. I’m done.

When my friend and former massage therapist, Rosemary, called it quits I was so sure she would miss doing body work. Now I understand why she doesn’t. It’s like any job, I suppose, you know when it’s time to walk away.

I’m grateful to all the people who let me work on them when I was in school and right out of school. Mom was one of those peeps. Thank you.

My massage career has taken so many twists and turns.

I worked for others on an on-call basis. I rented space. I shared a space. I had my own space where it was possible to do three massages at once in the two rooms. I had more than a half dozen people I could call to help with that work. That was when massage was the bulk of my income.

The Great Recession put an end to that. People’s discretionary income dried up and I needed to make writing a greater priority.

Even so, I took my table to Todos Santos to pay for lodging with my hands. What a wonderful winter.

In Chico it’s strictly been mobile massage where I go to people’s homes with the table. I’ve made friends and acquaintances this way.

Through the years I have been in so many different homes—be it in Tahoe, Chico or Baja—countless hotel rooms—met probably thousands of people. Only a couple were assholes. Only a couple wanted more than a therapeutic massage.

Working on so many bodies has been a privilege, an honor and a gift. I never took any of that lightly.

I’m still a firm believer in the power of massage. I get a 90-minute one every month, and would do so more often if the bank account allowed for it.

So, while I’m no longer available to be your massage therapist, book one—it does a body good.