Wife, Friend, Companion, Parnter, Team player... everything but Masseuse

My husband has a high consideration for me. He respects me and thinks that I can accomplish anything that I commit myself to… if I want to (of course).

However, there’s one particular aspect of my talents that he knows, firsthand, I’m lacking: my massage-giving ability.

This is an issue for us, because he loves a back rubbing and I don’t particularly enjoy it.

I squirm under the hand of the masseuse because my muscles hurt whenever someone is giving me a rubdown, so I tend to avoid it. Not my husband though, he loves someone kneading her back… so my Neanderthal-type touch is horrible in comparison to what a real masseuse can offer him (and I completely understand and encourage him to try a massage somewhere else).

The thing is that with all the studying he’s been doing for an exam he has to do on December, his free time (or our free time together) has been reduced to dinners and 45 minutes of an episode of The Mentalist once a week… not much to work with if you want to add additional ‘activities’ in-between… So I’ve become the full-time masseuse in our household.

My husband tries not to make me feel bad (considering the sacrifice I’m making to doing something that I’m awful at and I don’t completely enjoy) but the other day, after a lame attempt from my side to achieve a decent massage, he stood up, looked me in the eyes and told me:

- Honey, there are few things that you can’t do in your life, and a massage is definitely one of them. You completely lack the patience for it!

… Which it’s true!!

I’m impatient and that profession is for someone with centered body energy, someone who practices Yoga and eats dinner at a slow pace… not me!

I roll over life, accomplishing professional successes and personal improvements (less stubbornness, more tolerability, less speed in my day-to-day activities, more slow-paced actions)… maybe when I feel the need to slow down and take importance in other parts of my life, I’ll be able to triumph in those aspects and develop the ability to do a decent massage; but until that time comes; I’m pretty sure I’ll not be performing any neck rubbing, feet smoothing, back kneading… to anyone… anymore.

I’m a spastic person; whoever thought that I could perform a flawless massage doesn’t know me or my lack in Spa-type activities likeness.

My husband now knows that I can’t even pretend to be good at it… my hands don’t help, my impatience doesn’t help, my revulsion to moisturizing-cream doesn’t help (such a greasy product, yuck!).

Some of us are born masseuses, I was just born everything else (minus the masseuse thing).'