Massage as Healing: Touch, Trust, and Nervous System Care for Queer & Neurodivergent Folks

Hi, I’m Jude Kapadia (they/them), Licensed Massage Therapist and owner of Bodycraft – a therapeutic massage practice in the Greater Philly area. I work primarily with queer, trans, and neurodivergent folks who are dealing with chronic pain, trauma, or just trying to find a way to feel more at home in their bodies.

I really appreciate the work Arrive Therapy is doing, and I’m grateful to be invited to share here. I love that Arrive centers queer and trans people and approaches healing in a way that takes our full, complex, selves into account, not just our symptoms or diagnoses. That’s a huge part of how I approach massage therapy, too.

I wanted to share a little about how massage can be a supportive part of your healing, especially if you’ve felt disconnected from your body, or if your body has been a hard place to live in for a while.

Why Touch Matters When You’re Healing

For a lot of people I work with, touch is complicated. Maybe because of trauma, dysphoria, chronic pain conditions, or just feeling like their body has never been a safe or comfortable place. A lot of folks are used to dissociating, or shutting down sensations to get through the day.

Massage can offer a way to reconnect with your body in a safe, supportive environment. The pace is slow. There’s lots of communication. You’re always in control of what happens in the session, and nothing is assumed.

I’m never trying to force or “fix” anything – just guide your body towards relaxation, help it notice what feels okay, and start rebuilding some trust.

Massage and the Nervous System

I work with a lot of neurodivergent clients. Folks with autism, ADHD, sensory processing challenges, and chronic nervous system activation. These aren’t things you can just talk your way out of, especially if your body is used to being in a constant state of stress or alertness.

Massage, though, can help shift things on a physical level. It can calm the nervous system, reduce sensory overload, and help people feel more regulated. For some people, that means fewer meltdowns or shutdowns. For others, it means being able to focus or sleep more easily. It’s different for everyone, but the common thread is that my clients’ bodies feel more settled after a session.

Trauma-Informed Touch and Building Trust

If you have trauma, especially complex trauma, the idea of being touched (even in a supportive context) can bring up a lot. That’s why trauma-informed bodywork is at the center of my practice.

This means that everything in a session is based on your comfort level. You’ll never be pressured to undress more than you’d like. Your identity, needs, and preferences will always be at the forefront of your session. We’ll talk through what to expect, and you get to make choices about positioning, pressure, areas of focus, and whether you want to pause or stop at any time. I’m never going to doubt your experiences or ask you to justify anything. You’re believed, and you’re supported.

The goal isn’t to push through the pain. It’s to help you feel safe in your body and in the space we’re creating together.

Massage for Chronic Conditions and Surgical Recovery

A lot of the people I see live with chronic health conditions. Things like Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome, POTS, fibromyalgia, migraines, nerve pain, digestive issues, muscle tension from daily stress, and more. Some folks are recovering from surgeries like spinal fusions, hysterectomies, or top surgery.

Massage doesn’t replace medical care for conditions like these, but it can make daily life more manageable. It can help with pain, improve circulation, reduce tension, and support post-op healing in ways that feel respectful and affirming.

Here’s a quick example from one of my clients:

“Jude did an amazing job helping me out during a chronic pain flare-up. My body felt significantly better afterward for a solid week and a half, which is a huge deal for someone who is in pain every day.”

I hear stories like this all the time. For people who live in pain, having even a few days of relief matters. I regularly hear clients say things like, “I didn’t know my body could feel this way,” or, “This feels like magic.” Massage might not be magic, but that doesn’t make it any less meaningful. 

Massage as Part of a Bigger Healing Picture

Healing isn’t just about the body, and it’s not just about the mind. For a lot of us, it’s about connection. Connection to ourselves, to our communities, to a sense of care we may not have gotten elsewhere.

Massage can be an important piece of that. For example, trauma-informed bodywork gives clients an opportunity to practice relational skills like communication, boundary setting, and consent in a safe, supportive environment, making these things easier to apply in day-to-day life. 

Things like this make massage a supportive practice that can make a real difference, especially when it’s done in a space that’s queer-affirming, neurodivergence-friendly, and rooted in collaboration. 

Why Representation in Healing Work Matters

For people who are queer, trans, neurodivergent, or carrying trauma, finding a practitioner who truly gets your experience can make all the difference. When you don’t have to explain or defend your identity just to feel safe, it opens up so much more space for healing.

Many clients I see have been misgendered, disbelieved, or dismissed in healthcare settings. Sometimes care can feel more like a threat than a support. So part of my job is to do things differently for my clients – to make sure people feel safe, respected, and in control of their own experience.

I don’t ask clients to leave parts of themselves at the door. I know what it means to move through the world in a body that doesn’t always feel safe or understood, and I bring that knowing into your healing space with me. Representation isn't about having all the answers, but it is about shared understanding. It’s about not having to start at square one.

That’s part of why I feel so aligned with the work that Arrive Therapy is doing. They’ve built a practice centered around queer and trans folks, staffed entirely by LGBTQ+ therapists who understand their clients’ experiences firsthand. I love that they take identity into account as a vital part of care instead of an afterthought. To me, working alongside Arrive means being part of a broader network of support that recognizes the full complexity of the people we serve.

What Makes Bodycraft Different for Queer and Neurodivergent Clients

Massage isn’t one-size-fits-all. For many queer and neurodivergent clients, their bodies live through trauma, chronic stress, and sensory overwhelm. Dealing with these things myself means that nervous system healing has been a special interest of mine for years, and I bring a deep understanding of the impacts of trauma into my practice. 

Being neurodivergent means I also understand how sensory processing and nervous system regulation can affect what feels safe, what feels overwhelming, and how those boundaries can shift throughout a session. 

One autistic client told me they decided to book with me because knowing that I’m neurodivergent made them more comfortable being themself. Instead of forcing eye contact or changing the way they speak – things that they did to avoid seeming rude to others, but that made previous massage experiences uncomfortable – they were able to show up exactly as they were, and they were embraced for it. My lived experience helps me offer bodywork that meets you wherever you are.

And, as a trans practitioner, I understand the nuances of my clients’ identities. You don’t have to explain or justify who you are here. I’ve been in treatment rooms where assumptions made the space feel unsafe, so through Bodycraft, I offer the opposite: a collaborative experience built on mutual respect and consent. 

My Own Journey to Bodycraft 

Before starting my massage therapy practice, Bodycraft, I worked on farms, in kitchens, in classrooms, always drawn to work that let me use my hands, that asked me to be present. Despite feeling pulled a dozen different directions, nothing quite fit – until I found bodywork. Bodywork felt like the missing piece. A way to bring together intuition, connection, the art & science of healing, and my deep curiosity about how the body holds both pain and healing.

I’m queer, trans, and neurodivergent myself, and those parts of me shape how I practice every day. Having lived with complex trauma and chronic health conditions, I know what it’s like to feel misunderstood by medical systems or to carry pain long after the mind has tried to move on.

Finding queer-affirming bodywork isn’t always easy. The massage industry can be deeply gendered and cissexist, with many practitioners having little training on trauma or neurodivergence. 

Because of this, I’ve built the kind of practice I’ve wanted when seeking bodywork – a practice where clients can drop their guard, be themselves, and start to feel safe and comfortable in their bodies again (sometimes for the first time in what feels like forever). 

About Me

I’m Jude Kapadia (they/them), a queer, trans, neurodivergent massage therapist offering trauma-informed bodywork in Bucks, Montgomery, and Philadelphia Counties. I offer mobile sessions, and I also work out of a quiet, cozy office in Doylestown, PA.

If you’ve been thinking about massage but haven’t found a practitioner who gets where you’re coming from, I’d love to chat. I offer free consults so you can ask questions and see if it feels like a good fit. You don’t have to figure it all out alone. I hope to hear from you soon. 

You can learn more about my massage therapy practice at www.bodycraft.love, sign up for my email list (where I share appointment availability, original writing, specials/deals, and updates about my practice) here, and follow me on social media @bodycraft.love.