I got a spa voucher for my birthday (last July) and figured this week was a good one to use it. I usually hate going to spas for anything but a back massage: I dread the feeling of scrutiny and (hopefully imagined) sense of judgement and disapproval from the therapist. Clearly my girly insecurities come flying out… but I tugged on my big girl panties and braved the outing, I mean facing your fears is the first step to overcoming, right?
Arrival was pleasant enough; I met Adelaide my therapist and was ushered into my room. It was dark. With cheesy soothing elevator music. No matter, there was a bed with blankets and I even noticed a kettle looking contraption, I got comfy thinking things were looking good. The kettle was in fact a steamer and no such luck of getting any tea… but that was probably lucky as I was expected to lie still for 60 minutes and drinking may get in the way of whatever Adelaide was busy doing. So the steamer machine was actually quite nice (other than it went straight up my nose and made breathing a little difficult) and the cheesy music was growing on me… I thought I recognised a few songs turned instrumentals and began my own version of Mental Noot vir Noot. I wasnt very good.
All was going fine up until the point where bright lights were suddenly all up in my face and the “analysis” began… insecurities on cue… but no, apparently my skin is good (other than being a little congested. I dont even know what that is, but pretty sure it wasnt a compliment). The problem with facials is that there seems to be a lot going on but having one’s eyes closed made it difficult to actually see… and Adelaide had gone quiet. So I can’t really tell you what she did. I can tell you it felt like she used every potion and lotion they stocked on my face; some applied with sponges, others with brushes. Lacking my sense of sight, I turned to my smell: all thise fresh, clean smells each seemed to have a turn – citrus, mint, chamomile, even a woody sandlewood type scent. The music was growing on me and the blankets were great. I was just about to snooze when the Buzzy Thing was brought out. Being blind, I have absolutely no idea what it was or what it did to my face. I still don’t. But it buzzed like an electric something and was making contact with my face. I could only hope this was a good, safe thing. Trust is brought into question at times like these, and I had only just met Adelaide. Buzzy Thing done, she went on a black head hunting. mission with as much eagerness as a kid looking for Easter eggs. Insecurities told to sit in the the darkened corner and listen to music. More electric Buzzy Things. What was this woman doing to me?? I considered testing my intellectual ability to check on any possibility of having a lobotomy, but remembering my lack of success in identifying songs, I figured it may be a moot exercise. Trust was key. And Adelaide had seemed nice…
And then it was over. I was given a glass of water (very healthy and fearing more judgement, I drank it) and a brownie with (lets just hope) ginger in it. Definitely ate the brownie. Got given a goodiebag of samples and sent on my way. My skin has never felt so clean. Thank you Adelaide and your electric Buzzy Things, bright lights and cheesy music.