From Silence to Strength – Unveiling the Power of Resilience in Leadership (Part 1)
- Brainz Magazine
- Oct 27
- 12 min read
Written by Sam Mishra, The Medical Massage Lady
Sam Mishra (The Medical Massage Lady) is a multi-award-winning massage therapist, aromatherapist, accredited course tutor, oncology and lymphatic practitioner, trauma practitioner, breathwork facilitator, reiki and intuitive energy healer, transformational and spiritual coach, and hypnotherapist.
The human spirit possesses an extraordinary capacity to transform pain into purpose, wounds into wisdom, and survival into service. My life story is proof that our deepest struggles can become the foundation for our greatest contributions to the world. My journey through domestic abuse, sexual assault, chronic pain, complicated grief, and mental health challenges has been anything but linear, but it has shaped me into someone who can offer hope to others walking similar paths.
As The Medical Massage Lady, my voice stands out not through its magnitude but through honesty. My work, spanning podcasting, workshops, guides, and community outreach, is built on a foundation of both medical expertise and lived experience. A nurse and midwife by training, I carry with me not only clinical knowledge but also a life marked by profound adversity: childhood disability, abuse, chronic pain, depression, PTSD, and complicated grief. It is from this tapestry of hardship that I have woven a career dedicated to understanding, educating, and above all, healing. While known for my trauma work, my practice cannot be neatly defined by a single word.
When I look back at my journey, it is not the victories that shaped me the most, it is the challenges. Growing up in a dysfunctional family dynamic, I learned early how to keep going when resources were scarce and how to hold on to hope even when circumstances seemed stacked against me. That foundation of resilience carried me through school, through a career in the NHS, and ultimately into entrepreneurship as the founder of The Medical Massage Lady, whose mission is helping people reclaim their power. My services are tied to confidence, relationships, health, and the future. When we do not understand, or worse, when we have been told we are not capable of handling life, it can hold us back for years. My mission is to break those cycles and show clients that emotional stability and generational trauma recognition are within reach.
In those moments in life when the weight of pain feels too much for words, sometimes all it takes is a hand on your shoulder, a touch that says you are not alone. Healing often begins not with medicine but with care that reaches deeper than the physical.
I did not reach this understanding from text or training manuals alone. It came from years spent on hospital wards, from nights supporting women in labour, and from a personal journey marked by both love and unimaginable loss. My story is one of resilience, of finding a way to keep caring even when my own world fell apart.
I never grew up with ambition or the thought of becoming a leader. As a child, I was shy, introverted, and often experienced social anxiety, which I still do to this day. It was only in recent years that the impact of childhood became clear. Growing up without a father and with a narcissistic mother meant there was no affection, no words of love or pride, and constant dismissal of opinions. Being deprived of this support had a huge effect on my self-confidence and almost certainly shaped my early relationships.
Growing up with a narcissistic parent and another absent, followed by an abusive marriage, left me without a sense of identity. My self-esteem was severely diminished, and confidence in my own judgment became fragile. Messages that I would never achieve anything, that my opinion carried no value, and that no one would want me, shaped much of my twenties and thirties.
Although academically strong, I struggled with anxiety and my introverted nature. Now, at forty-nine years old, I have lived with depression for over three decades and with complex PTSD for at least two. These conditions affect my short-term memory, making tasks such as writing articles or teaching far more difficult, even though the knowledge remains.
When I faced my own personal battles, chronic pain, childhood disability, grief, and mental health struggles, I never imagined that these experiences would lay the foundation for a transformative career in holistic therapy. Yet, it was precisely these adversities that motivated me to revolutionise therapeutic practices, blending medical knowledge with compassionate care to offer healing not only for the body but also for the soul. Today, my business is a beacon of hope for those who have long been underserved by traditional healthcare approaches.
Alongside my broad medical background in nursing and midwifery, I have expanded my massage credentials to encompass aromatherapy, oncology, trauma, Reiki, hypnosis, breathwork, and more. However, my desire to offer a fresh perspective on holistic treatment was born out of my own struggles with chronic pain and trauma. Serving marginalised populations, including children with cerebral palsy, trauma survivors, those with mental health issues, and those having gender reassignment surgery, has become an integral part of my work as a multi-award-winning educator and therapist.
My early career in resilience
My path to healthcare was not straightforward. After school, I was uncertain about my future.
Catering and art both crossed my mind, but life steered me toward occupational therapy. I stayed for two terms before realising my heart lay elsewhere. I wanted to be treating people, not just spending most of my time in assessment. That choice led me to nursing and later midwifery, where women’s health became a field that held my attention.
Though officially diagnosed with depression at nineteen, its shadow had been cast across my teenage years, unacknowledged. The diagnosis came during my nursing training, coinciding with my first nervous breakdown and self-harm, in a world that seemed to move forward while I stood still. The shame of mental illness in healthcare was palpable; I could not tell anyone what I was experiencing or reach out for the support that I desperately needed.
That breakdown not only forced me out of nursing temporarily but also imparted an important lesson in perseverance. When one path closes, we must find another. I enrolled in a massage course, thinking I was abandoning my medical aspirations forever. Yet, life has a way of weaving seemingly disconnected threads into a meaningful tapestry. I eventually completed my nursing degree, worked as a surgical nurse, and then discovered my true calling in women’s health through midwifery.
For three years, I helped bring new life into the world, witnessing the raw power and vulnerability of birth. It was meaningful work that filled my soul, but life had other plans. I married, and after three unsuccessful pregnancies, had two children, one of whom was diagnosed with cerebral palsy. Daily routines, the family dynamic, and my career trajectory all changed.
Personal adversity and strength
The difficult dynamic that I grew up in led to me marrying young in a bid to escape, but behind the façade of a functioning family, a darker reality was unfolding. Believing that marriage would provide protection and care, I instead faced nine years of abuse of every kind, feeling unable to leave despite knowing that life was not meant to be this way. My hopes of finding support and love had become a prison of abuse, although the realisation that it was abuse only came later. After enduring three unsuccessful pregnancies, the arrival of two children finally gave me the strength to walk away, especially when neglect began to affect them.
I had endured every type of abuse imaginable while trying to protect my children from the same fate. The isolation was suffocating, nobody knew what was happening behind closed doors. I was too scared to tell anyone, too busy trying to process the reality of my situation to reach out for help. When I witnessed neglect towards my children, I knew I had to act. The courage to leave an abusive relationship is not a single moment of bravery, it is a series of small, terrifying steps towards freedom, each one requiring you to choose hope over fear.
My career, however, also shifted when my daughter was diagnosed with a disability. I stepped away, planning only a short pause. One year turned into nine as I devoted myself entirely to my children, and then came the heartbreak no parent should endure, I lost them. The grief left me in darkness for years. After sitting on my floor one night, ready to end it all, I knew I had to get out of the reclusive phase I was in.
I left midwifery shortly after my daughter’s diagnosis, thinking I would take a year to manage appointments and get our new reality under control. That year stretched into nine years of being a full-time carer to my two children, navigating the complex world of disability services while simultaneously fighting lengthy legal proceedings with my ex-husband.
The legal system, which should have been a source of protection and justice, became another source of trauma. I watched in horror as professionals who were supposed to be objective advocates for children’s welfare were manipulated by someone who had spent years perfecting the art of deception. The very systems designed to protect domestic abuse victims and their children failed us spectacularly.
However, personal healing had not yet begun, and another marriage followed five years later. That union was short-lived and ended, coinciding with the devastating loss of both children, altering life forever. The depression that had started in my teenage years and was formally diagnosed at nineteen after a nervous breakdown and self-harm, escalated further. The trauma from my upbringing, compounded by abuse and later the loss of my children, deepened into complex PTSD and prolonged grief that continues to this day. A second nervous breakdown brought thoughts of ending life, with no clear path forward.
Ten years ago, I lost my children through this broken system, a loss that defies description and understanding. Complicated grief settled into my bones like a chronic illness, exacerbating the CPTSD that stemmed from both my childhood and my abusive marriage. The suicidal ideation was not just about wanting to escape pain; it was about feeling completely disconnected from any sense of purpose or hope.
For four years, I became a recluse. My sofa became my world, and drawing became my lifeline, the only way I could process emotions too big for words. These were not lost years; they were necessary years, a cocoon period where I had to completely break down before I could rebuild.
My own struggles with chronic pain and complex grief deeply shaped my understanding of the healing process. By channelling my experiences into my work, I was able to use these obstacles as motivation. My drive to help others was inspired by deep empathy for those who faced similar struggles. I use my own past to fuel my work and give others a chance at healing. The adversity I have faced made me more determined to break down barriers in healthcare.
This personal commitment led to the creation of a range of therapeutic services that are rooted in both professional expertise and lived experience. By being open and vulnerable about my own challenges, I have built a therapeutic space where clients can feel seen and heard, breaking down stigmas in a society that often feels uncomfortable discussing trauma and mental health.
Time to evolve through resilience
Going through such pain with little to no support would either destroy or transform a person. I am still not sure to this day how I did it, but I found a way to rise. The poem ‘Still I Rise’ by Maya Angelou became a source of motivation. “Did you want to see me broken? Bowed head and lowered eyes? Shoulders falling down like teardrops, weakened by my soulful cries? You may kill me with your hatefulness, but still, like air, I will rise.”
The truth that I did not come to realise until recently is that every feeling you have ever had, even the messy ones, carries a message. Rather than being a sign of weakness, your emotions are a window into your inner strength. Every emotion can be reframed. Joy and sadness give you the gift of empathy. Anxiety and excitement give you an instinct for growth. Anger and compassion give you the power to protect. Guilt and forgiveness give you the strength to heal. Peace and uncertainty make you resilient, giving you the capacity to adapt. Rather than being issues that need fixing, your emotions can be resources that help you transform, regulate, and be resilient.
During this delicate stage of rebuilding, it was something from my past that offered a way forward. Years earlier, while on a break from nursing, I had taken a massage course. At the time, it was simply to keep my mind active, but the knowledge stayed with me. Returning to nursing proved far harder than expected after so much time away. The turning point came through a conversation with a friend who mentioned sports massage, a lightbulb moment that connected my past training with my present needs. I remembered how massage had helped my daughter with her cerebral palsy, easing the spasticity in her muscles, relaxing her bowel, and providing comfort during difficult times.
So I chose another path, using massage as a bridge between my medical background and my desire to help people. I registered for a sports therapy course. It felt like coming home to myself, a way to use my medical knowledge and training while honouring the journey I had been on. It was more than simply getting my career back on track. Returning to massage allowed me to rediscover who I am, a healer.
My brief stint working for a franchise opened my eyes to the massage industry’s significant shortcomings, inadequate training systems, low standards, and most therapists had no understanding of trauma or how to work with survivors. The level of care that clients were entitled to was falling short. Two-thirds of clients were coming in with medical issues or sports injuries. It was not just pampering anymore. People needed more, and they deserved more. Soon, clients began asking specifically for “the medical lady.” They trusted my expertise, and I could see the difference my approach was making. That was when I knew I had to create something of my own.
I also had to confront my own biggest physical trigger, being touched around my neck, which I overcame through massage and the realisation that healing does not always come from textbooks, but from genuine human connection. The experience crystallised my determination to offer support for women who had been through similar experiences.
The determination to work with trauma, domestic abuse, and childhood disability came from lived experience, coupled with a strong foundation in medical training. Choosing self-employment through massage therapy created space to work in areas that mainstream spas and franchises would not allow. Over time, this independence enabled training in chosen fields and building a professional identity rooted in authenticity.
Unlike many, I did not wish to present a purely formal or detached professional front. By being open about personal trauma and struggles, I became more relatable, creating an environment where clients could trust and connect. This made therapy more accessible to those who needed it most. I built my practice around the belief that massage could be more than a luxury. It could be a form of meaningful care. When the pandemic gave me unexpected time, I used it to write training manuals. My goal was clear, to give therapists the depth of knowledge they needed to adapt treatments safely and effectively, no matter the client’s condition.
In February 2020, I took the leap into self-employment, a decision based on creating the kind of practice I wished had existed when I needed it most, integrating my medical knowledge with specialised massage services. In the beginning, my work centred mainly on massage and the application of medical experience. Over time, that focus expanded into a much wider holistic practice, including breathwork, hypnosis, transformation coaching, Reiki, aromatherapy, and a range of other treatments. I also conduct workshops, with trauma healing and transformation coaching emerging as a central part of my work. Various motivating forces continue to guide and inspire this path.
My oncology training was transformative in unexpected ways, teaching me a gentler approach to bodywork that does not overstimulate the nervous system and steering me towards breathwork, another powerful tool for releasing trauma buried in the subconscious. The breath is our most immediate connection to the present moment and our most accessible tool for nervous system regulation, exactly what trauma survivors need. This realisation led to the development of my trauma massage technique, adapted from oncology principles. Trauma survivors are often stuck in survival mode, their nervous systems dysregulated and easily overwhelmed, and so require a calming approach.
Further training with renowned trauma experts deepened my understanding of how trauma lives in the body, and Gabor Mate’s work on trauma resonated deeply with my own experiences. I expanded my toolkit to include vagus nerve toning, breathwork, regression Reiki to address trauma at its energetic roots, hypnotherapy for deeper subconscious healing, and transformative workshops.
As my reputation for trauma work grew, I began collaborating with local charities, domestic abuse services, rape crisis centres, and mental health organisations. Overwhelming need created long waiting lists for counselling services, leaving survivors in limbo during their most vulnerable time. Having navigated my trauma with virtually no support, I felt a deep responsibility to ensure other women would not face the same isolation.
So many times, clients say to me, “I wish someone would have told me this sooner,” and this is why education is the focal point of everything that I do. Business is about creating a foundation for growth, not merely services on a daily basis. When you have clarity, you walk differently. New opportunities present themselves that you were not previously aware of.
If there is one lesson I have learned, it is that wealth is not just about money, it is about mindset and habits. You do not need to have it all figured out to start building. Small, consistent steps compound over time, and I may not have believed that back then, but I certainly do now.
Read more from Sam Mishra
Sam Mishra, The Medical Massage Lady
Sam Mishra (The Medical Massage Lady), is a multi-award winning massage therapist, aromatherapist, accredited course tutor, oncology and lymphatic practitioner, trauma practitioner, breathwork facilitator, reiki and intuitive energy healer, transformational and spiritual coach and hypnotherapist. Her medical background as a nurse and a midwife, combined with her own experiences of childhood disability and abuse, has resulted in a diverse and specialised service, but she is mostly known for her trauma work. She is motivated by the adversity she has faced, using it as a driving force in her charity work and in offering the vulnerable a means of support. Her aim is to educate about medical conditions using easily understood language, to avoid inappropriate treatments being carried out, and for health promotion purposes in the general public. She is also becoming known for challenging the stigmas in our society and pushing through the boundaries that have been set by such stigmas within the massage industry.
