Don’t Tell Me to Relax!

When I’m told to loosen up, my muscles tense and my mind races. Turns out I’m not the only one. Here’s what we can do about it

Michele Shapiro,

AARP

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Published May 12, 2026

An illustration of an older woman with a bun and a worried facial expression lying on a massage table. A massage therapist in a red uniform stands behind her with hands on her shoulders. The spa setting includes a candle, towels, and a potted plant in the background.

Massages are meant to be relaxing, but sometimes the body doesn't get the message.

Remie Geoffroi

On a recent vacation, I treated myself to a 50-minute massage at a luxury resort in Cancún. After a circuit of sauna, steam and hot and cold plunges, my massage therapist, Angelica, instructed me to hang my robe on the door and lie face down beneath a silky sheet and a warm weighted blanket.

She gently rested her hands on my back. “Relax,” she purred.

I wish it were that simple.

The moment I heard the “R” word, my thoughts sped up like cyclists sprinting toward the finish line of the Tour de France.

How much is this massage costing per minute? Will I remember my locker combination? Wait, did I put on deodorant this morning?

When someone tries to relax me — be it a massage therapist, a meditation instructor or, frankly, anyone with a soothing voice — my brain and body go into overdrive. My pulse quickens, my muscles tighten and my internal speakers start blaring AC/DC all the way up to 11.

If being told to relax makes you feel anything but relaxed, you likely share my frustration.

While it’s easy to assume that unwinding should come naturally, research suggests the ability to relax is shaped by the nervous system, life experience and how safe the brain perceives the world to be. For many of us in midlife and beyond, years of stress, caregiving and constant mental stimulation can leave our bodies stuck in a low-grade state of alertness. The result: When there’s finally time to rest, the body doesn’t quite get the message.

“We can’t relax suddenly,” says Elissa Epel, a chair and professor of psychiatry and behavioral sciences at the University of California, San Francisco, and author of The Stress Prescription: 7 Days to More Joy and Ease. “It takes time for our nervous system to shift gears from our usual high rate of activity to true relaxation.”

Over time, Epel adds, our stress response can become “more rigid.” With years of practice, the body simply gets better at staying on alert.

The good news: We can train our bodies to downshift at any age.

Epel suggests reframing stress as useful rather than wrong, because it helps us rise to challenges that life throws our way.

We were raised to shut down and ignore big emotions, says Amelia Nagoski, coauthor of Burnout: The Secret to Unlocking the Stress Cycle. “That becomes a reflex.” Over time, those unprocessed emotions build up.

That’s why rest, whether on the massage table or in bed at night, doesn’t always feel restorative. The body needs a signal that stress is over.

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So how do I let my body know this? Physical activity is one of the most effective ways. Which activity depends on the individual. Laughter, crying and creative expression can also help release built-up stress, Nagoski says. In some cases, deeper reflection or therapy may help.

Jenny Taitz, a cognitive behavioral therapist, has another take on why my massage sessions typically backfire: While we think of “peace and quiet” as a good thing, she says, it can also turn on us.

A lot of times, if we’re suppressing feelings and pushing through the day, the second we get quiet, there’s a surge of thoughts and emotions, says Taitz, author of Stress Resets: How to Soothe Your Body and Mind in Minutes.

In other words, relaxation doesn’t create anxiety; it reveals what’s been waiting underneath.

Overthinking only makes it worse. People assume that thinking more will help them solve problems, but oftentimes it just amplifies stress — as does being told to relax. Instead, the goal should be to create conditions that make calmness more likely. They can include clearing your mind before a quiet activity by writing down your thoughts, or dictating them as a voice memo.

Armed with these insights, I booked another massage (this time closer to home) and road-tested a few strategies from the experts I had spoken with:

Before the appointment, I laced up my sneakers and took my dog for a brisk walk around the neighborhood.

Then I sat down at a nearby café and wrote down everything that was on my mind. The brain-dump felt cathartic.

During the massage, I focused on sensory details: the music, the scent of the oil, the warmth of the therapist’s hands rather than forcing myself to relax as I had in the past (another of Taitz’s suggestions).

On the table, something unexpected happened. As the therapist worked through a tender spot near my right hip, my eyes watered. I didn’t question it. I just let the tears flow. And left the table feeling noticeably lighter.

What I’ve learned is this: Relaxation isn’t something you can force on command. It’s something your body relearns, gradually, after years of staying on alert.

I’m not fully there yet. But I’m definitely a few steps closer than I was even a month ago. And I look forward to the day that my massage therapist needs to wake me up at the end of my session because I drifted off into dreamland without even realizing it.

AARP essays share a point of view in the author’s voice, drawn from expertise or experience, and do not necessarily reflect the views of AARP.

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Michele Shapiro is the former director of finance and health content at People Inc.’s in-house creative studio. She writes frequently about financial wellness, traveling in midlife and finding ways to live longer (and better!).