This was written 12 March 2026 but I had issues with getting it posted. I have since learned that I have better options than I thought I did that day, but I'm sharing it as I wrote it. Enjoy. ~PSX

Today, I'm at my professional development class in Surrey, the one I originally came to Canada for. This class is right up my alley in all the best ways! Cranial-fascial therapies, a twist on craniosacral therapy with a fascial system approach. This is everything I've studied. This is everything I love about massage therapy. In another life, I'd be thrilled to be here today.

But instead, my body is in a state of panic and I'm so fucking sad. 

The panic is for all the reasons I have already written about. It's nothing new. 

The sad is because all my expertise, my 15+ years in the field of massage therapy, means almost nothing here in Canada. 

As is, I am not qualified to be an RMT (registered massage therapist). What I found earlier had basically said that I am going to have to choose between pursuing further education or stop calling myself a massage therapist. I can be a "bodyworker". I can do "wellness" or "relaxation" massage. I cannot do the things that I love. Or at least I can't tell people I do them. 

My specialty in massage is in pre/post surgical work and injury massage. It's what I do best. I have helped people avoid surgeries, worked on people immediately after surgeries, prepared people's bodies for surgeries, and even addressed issues years after surgeries. I am damn good at what I do. 

My background includes a full year of massage school (not very common in the states), multiple continuing education courses in scar tissue work, intermediate craniosacral therapy courses, multiple myofascial release courses, several anatomy courses, an entire degree in biomedical engineering, and an internship at Barrow Neurological Center in their Spine Lab where I helped prep cadavers for "spinal surgery" and then participated in testing them. Most recently, I was working in massage education as an instructor and as the supervisor for the massage program.

These all gave me some very unique perspectives on the human body that helped me be very, very effective. Doing massage, teaching massage, makes me happy. 

I'm not allowed to do any of this in Canada without the RMT designation. And this morning, I found myself grieving what I cannot do.

So when I left the room today for lunch, I was feeling a bit despondent. What am I even doing at this class? Why am I even trying? It feels pointless. My entire career, gone overnight. I've been in massage almost half my life. What do I do now?

Then, as I crossed the back parking lot to the area where the restaurants are, I saw daffodils--maybe 15 of them, quietly sitting there--and my soul leapt. 

Daffodils have always made me happy. My mom grew them when I was a kid in Utah. To me, they are hope in the form of a flower. It's not uncommon to have them poking out of a recent snow storm's remains, the contrast of yellow on white telling my heart that spring is almost here. The darkness of winter is fading and spring is coming. They are a reminder to just hold on, just a few more weeks, and everything will get brighter and happier. Screw what the groundhog says, I base my knowing of spring on the flowers. Especially daffodils. 

Daffodils still grow in Canada. 

I know that may seem stupidly obvious to anyone who knows anything about flowers. It's also not the first time I've seen daffodils here in British Columbia. But the realization that came with it this time is new. 

Daffodils grow wherever they are planted. They are adaptable. 

Their native habitat didn't have snow - they come from Southern Europe, the Mediterranean, and Northern Africa. Yet they grew happily in northern Utah and they are growing happily in lower BC, even though it's snowed most days this week.

I still didn't know what my answer is regarding my massage career. But I could feel the pull off the Universe subtly telling me "the dark night is fading. Spring is almost here. Just hold on a little bit longer. It's going to be bright and happy. Don't give up yet."

Like magic, right after lunch I discovered a pathway towards getting certified as an RMT with the education I already have. It's going to cost about $4k CAD and I probably am going to have to study to relearn things before I do it, but it's viable. There's a legitimate option for me to not start over, but be transplanted in a new home. I don't have any idea how I'm going to come up with $4k to do this, but I have a little time. It'll be okay. 

Just like daffodils, I can grow where I'm planted. My journey is not over yet. Being a massage therapist is going to look different in Canada, but that's okay. I can still be me. I can find ways to grow, to thrive, even in this new habitat. I can poke through the snow and find the light of the sun shining on me and know that it's not the end. Spring is coming. There will be joy again.

Because Daffodils still grow in Canada.

**If you would like to help fund my journey to proving I'm qualified to be an RMT, donate on my PayPal.

**If you would like to help my family get the mental health help we all so desperately need, and get established in Canada, you can either donate on our GoFundMe or through my PayPal.

**I haven't forgotten about Ask A Trans Man! If you want to leave a question, use THIS FORM. I will be starting this up as soon as I get a couple of little things sorted!