29/10/2026
I used to hate men.
I was scared of them. I struggled to relate to them. I made them wrong time and time again.
Unlearning these beliefs has been a journey.
Learning to feel safe in my own body. Learning boundaries and discernment. Learning to trust what I feel, and to stay open without abandoning myself.
Bodywork has been an important part of that journey, both in receiving and giving.
As a bodyworker, I’ve had uncomfortable experiences with men. Unwelcome energy, subtle boundary testing, moments that have left me questioning whether it would be easier to work exclusively with women.
And yet, I’ve met so many beautiful men, too.
Men with good hearts. Men exhausted from holding it all together. Men who want to be seen in their wholeness. To soften, to feel, to reconnect with themselves.
I’ve learned that both experiences can be true. I can acknowledge where I’ve felt unsafe without allowing those experiences to define every man I meet. I can hold compassion without abandoning discernment.
Because men need safe, nurturing touch, too.
Touch that asks nothing of them. That invites them to rest, to feel, to simply be — without needing to perform, provide or hold it all together.
My own journey has taught me that safety and openness can coexist. That boundaries aren’t barriers to connection; they’re what make genuine connection possible.
This is part of why I do the work I do at Soulshine.
To create a space where bodies are respected, boundaries are clear, and touch honours our shared humanity.
To feel safe enough to soften. To be met without expectation. To reconnect with ourselves. đź’›
