Understanding consent, holding space and the subtle ways our own reactions can influence a client's experience.
I'm writing this from two perspectives: as a psychotherapist and as someone who worked as a massage therapist for 23 years before becoming a psychotherapist.
Through both roles, I've become increasingly interested in the relationship between trauma, the body, and what it means to feel safe enough to receive care.
Here are seven things I believe are worth considering as massage therapists and bodyworkers.
1. A client saying “yes” doesn't always mean they feel able to say “no”
You ask your client if the pressure is OK.
Your client says “yes”.
But did they feel they could say “no”?
For some people who have experienced trauma, speaking up, expressing a preference or changing their mind can feel surprisingly difficult. They may be accustomed to putting other people's needs first, worrying about disappointing others or keeping their discomfort to themselves.
This doesn't mean every client who says yes is holding back a no. It means consent involves more than asking the question. We also need to create an environment where clients can express their needs and change their minds without feeling judged or responsible for our reactions.
2. Touch can be both valuable and complicated after trauma
Trauma can affect how people experience their bodies, boundaries, and physical touch. Even in a caring, professional setting, receiving touch may bring up vulnerability, uncertainty, or a sense of losing control.
At the same time, bodywork, when offered with appropriate consent and sensitivity, can provide an opportunity to receive care while retaining choice and autonomy.
This is one reason trauma-informed practice matters. We don't need to know a client's trauma history to offer thoughtful care, but we do need to recognise that the experience of touch isn't the same for everyone.
3. You don't need to know someone's trauma story to work in a trauma-informed way
Being trauma-informed doesn't mean asking clients about their past or encouraging them to disclose experiences they may not wish to discuss.
Instead, it's about considering how we communicate, explain what we're doing, offer choices, and respect boundaries.
A client should be able to receive a treatment without feeling they have to explain their history to justify a preference or boundary.
Sometimes, the most supportive thing we can do is make the next step clear, offer a genuine choice, and allow the client to decide.
4. Holding space doesn't mean becoming a trauma therapist
As massage therapists, we may sometimes find ourselves with a client who becomes emotional, shares something difficult, or expresses discomfort.
Holding space doesn't mean we need to resolve what they're experiencing, interpret their reactions, or become their therapist.
It means being able to listen and remain present without immediately trying to fix things, dismiss the experience, or rush the person along because we're uncomfortable.
It also means understanding our professional role and its limits. We can acknowledge what a client shares, offer appropriate choices and support, and recognise when a situation calls for boundaries or referral.
5. Our own reactions can influence the space we create
We all bring our own experiences, sensitivities and histories into our work.
A client's distress might leave us feeling helpless. Their anger might make us defensive. Their vulnerability might trigger an urge to rescue them or make everything better.
These reactions are human. Having them doesn't make us a bad practitioner.
What matters is whether we can recognise what's happening within us, rather than automatically allowing those reactions to determine how we respond.
If we're busy managing our own discomfort, we may find it harder to listen openly or allow a client the space to express what they need.
6. We can brace without even realising it
When we think about shutting down, we might imagine something obvious, such as changing the subject or dismissing what a client says.
But sometimes our responses are much more subtle.
We might hold our breath, tighten our shoulders, become overly focused on the treatment, or feel an urge to reassure a client that everything is fine.
I think of this as bracing — the physical, emotional, or mental tightening that can happen when something feels uncomfortable or unfamiliar.
Often, we don't even notice we're doing it.
Our clients may notice changes in our tone, posture, or attention, although we can't assume we know exactly how they interpret them. Becoming more aware of our own reactions gives us a better opportunity to respond thoughtfully rather than automatically.
7. Learning to unbrace is part of developing self-awareness
Learning to unbrace isn't about forcing ourselves to relax or pretending we're never affected by what happens in the treatment room.
It begins with noticing.
What happens in my body when a client expresses discomfort? Do I feel compelled to reassure, rescue, or fix? Can I allow a moment of uncertainty without immediately trying to make it more comfortable for myself?
Sometimes, simply pausing, noticing our breathing, and bringing our attention back to the present can help us respond more intentionally.
For example, rather than automatically saying, “It's fine, don't worry,” we might say:
“Thank you for letting me know. Would you like me to change the pressure, pause for a moment, or stop?”
Then we allow the client to choose.
These small moments can make a difference. They help us practise listening, respecting boundaries and supporting a client's autonomy without making the interaction about our own discomfort.
Trauma-informed practice isn't about being a perfect practitioner. It's about developing the awareness to recognise our own responses, understand our professional limits and remain open to learning.
The work begins with us
For someone who has experienced trauma, being able to say “no”, ask for less pressure, or change their mind without feeling judged can matter.
As practitioners, we can look beyond the techniques we use with our hands and become curious about what happens within us when another person is vulnerable.
Because the question isn't only whether we've asked for consent.
It's also whether we're creating the kind of space in which a person feels able to answer honestly.
Want to explore trauma-informed massage more deeply?
After 23 years working as a massage therapist, and now in my work as a psychotherapist, I believe trauma-informed practice involves more than learning techniques. It also asks us to consider how we respond to vulnerability, discomfort, and the experiences our clients bring into the treatment room.
These are some of the ideas I explore further in my Trauma-Informed Massage Course, designed for massage therapists and bodyworkers who want to develop a more trauma-aware, client-centred approach to their work.
If you'd like to deepen your understanding and continue exploring how trauma-informed principles can shape your practice, you can find out more here:
