Oviya / by autumn bland

As a massage therapist & doula, Oviya experienced a major shift in her life as her income plummeted during the pandemic. “The clinic where I worked had to temporarily close and indoor table massage wasn’t allowed. To adapt, I built an outdoor space at my home and offered Thai massage sessions during the warmer months. In the colder months, my work as a doula was my main focus.

Covid times were incredibly charged; fear and suspicion showed up in my neighborhood. One neighbor kept making racist comments about the “China virus,”another began harassing people coming for treatment at my home studio, making it difficult to offer a sense of safety and sanctuary.”

Oviya said the tension became a catalyst, pushing her to find dedicated studio space. A few years after returning to clinic work post-shutdown, she transitioned to full-time on her own. Additionally, her work as a doula increased as the need for support grew due to many healthcare workers feeling tapped out, overworked and hyper vigilant.

“Many birthing families had to make decisions without the support they would normally have, though they birthed with incredible strength. The babies born during that time, many of whom I still follow and care about deeply, feel like little reminders of the continuity of life during uncertain times.

My understanding of the human body, especially the nervous system, has deepened tremendously. I witnessed how we are shaped by chronic stress, disconnection, and cultural upheaval. The return to "normal" was never really possible. For people w/ autoimmune conditions and marginalized folks, the pandemic seemed to intensify systemic dysregulation. Many clients returned w/ worsened flares, fatigue, and heightened sensitivities. The lymphatic system in particular took a toll. I saw increased stagnation, fluid retention, inflammation, and sluggish tissue. 

Respiratory systems shifted too—chronic mouth breathing, collapsed diaphragms, and irregular breath-holding patterns are common. For some, this is physiological, but for many, it seems to be an imprint of shock and chronic vigilance, shaped by fear or bracing for bad news.

I’ve noticed a general baseline of up-regulation in nearly all clients. The systems we returned to (school, work, healthcare) haven’t evolved to meet the depth of what we’ve collectively experienced. Instead of slowing down to allow space for integration and healing, we’ve been pushed to move faster, absorb more information and stay constantly plugged into media streams. The mental health crisis is no longer theoretical. It’s in the room with me every day.

Oviya remains introspective about her experiences during the pandemic: "The pandemic reshaped me in ways I’m still uncovering. I’ve shed a lot of my conditioning regarding who I’m supposed to be, how I’m supposed to love, and what it means to be in a body that feels, desires, and grieves in complex ways. I lost a lot: stability, a sense of predictability, and some relationships. In the process, I gained a sobering view of how fragility and inequality show up in everyday life. 

The body’s intelligence is immense, but it’s not infinite. We need to broaden our understanding of the word “healing” to include relational harmony, where we work toward collective healing and liberation. Basically, no one is well until we all are. Healing work is political, it is justice work, it is relational—not individual. So, it is imperative that I continue to refine how I save space for others without losing myself. Nothing is guaranteed; what we need most is each other. 

January, 2021

Kent