When I had finally had it with the brainless day jobs in between gigs, the utter lack of control over my career, and the enormous amount of work that goes into auditioning with little or no pay off, I decided to quit show biz. But theater, like anorexia, was so much a part of me that I mourned the loss of yet another piece of my being.

What was I if not an actress? I poured over books on jobs in the liberal arts. I brainstormed and made lists of anything that even remotely interested me, and a pattern emerged. Health sciences came up again and again. I wanted to help people. I wanted to touch the lives of others in meaningful ways. And touch others I did. I went to school for massage therapy and graduated two years later.

I had been virtually untouchable for nearly two decades. On the rare occasion that someone did touch me, my body went rigid. Once my health had been restored, I realized that I was no longer numb to touch, that I craved something as simple as a caring hand on my shoulder. Being touched by those who care about me had an immediate and profound effect on my physical and emotional state, often resulting in a release of anxiety that brought on tears.

Touch is a basic human necessity. Without it, babies die and adults become ill. Perhaps it was because I had been touch-deprived for so long that I was drawn to massage. I now spent my days giving therapeutic massage to help others suffering from physical and emotional pain.