Massachusetts Has a Massage Problem

Jennifer knew exactly what she needed before starting her new job—a day devoted entirely to herself. A 42-year-old pediatric nurse from Roxbury who had accepted a more challenging position, she wanted to glide into her first day feeling refreshed and centered. Thanks to her partner’s thoughtful gift certificate, she booked herself a much-needed session at JP’s Massage Therapy Center in Jamaica Plain. Not stopping there, she scheduled an early afternoon visit to a Cambridge sauna, determined to make the most of that warm October day in 2023. It would be a time of relaxation and renewal before embracing the challenges ahead.

After checking in at the front desk with her massage therapist, Serge Merisme, Jennifer, who is using a pseudonym to protect her privacy, undressed and slipped under the covers on the massage table. Then Merisme entered the room, and while soft music played, he went to work relieving her knots and tension.

Everything felt exactly as it should, until it didn’t. At one point during the massage, she says, Merisme didn’t properly drape her, as therapists are trained to do, and her breasts were exposed. Soon after, one of his massage strokes grazed her vagina. “The vagina is a muscle, too,” she recalls him saying. Then she says he did the unthinkable: He put his finger inside her. “I froze. I didn’t really know what to do,” she says, describing a common response to sexual assault. Her mind traveled back to when she first walked into the spa—she hadn’t seen anyone other than Merisme. “I felt very alone and isolated in the room,” she says.

When the massage ended, Jennifer put her clothes on and tried to maintain her composure as she presented the gift certificate her partner had lovingly given her. A while later, she texted him. “Something happened in the massage, and I feel really weird about it. I think I got assaulted,” she recalls writing. (Merisme could not be reached for comment. The spa owner declined to comment.)

Every day across the state, women like Jennifer put themselves in what is perhaps the most vulnerable position imaginable: alone and naked under a sheet or thin blanket, inside a massage room with a stranger whom they’ve entrusted to put their hands all over their bodies. Most of the time, they get exactly what they pay for: deep relaxation, even healing. But sometimes, instead of being helped, they are harmed in one of the most devastating ways.

According to official numbers obtained through public records requests, at least two dozen massage therapists have faced sanctions since 2021 after the Massachusetts Board of Registration of Massage Therapy investigated and confirmed acts of sexual misconduct involving clients. One of these cases stemmed from Jennifer’s complaint to the board about Merisme (which resulted in an agreement between Merisme and the board to voluntarily surrender his license and cease practicing massage therapy). An additional four cases in which massage therapists either surrendered their licenses or had them revoked were so heavily redacted that it’s unclear what acts of misconduct the massage therapists were sanctioned for, and five more cases involved sex trafficking and other offenses related to sexual misconduct. And as of the fall of 2024, there were 13 additional pending cases involving alleged sexual misconduct.

With more than 7,700 licensed massage therapists in Massachusetts, the number of disciplinary actions is arguably small, but experts say these cases are just the tip of the iceberg. According to Adam Horowitz, a nationally acclaimed attorney who specializes in massage sexual abuse cases, these are some of the most underreported sexual crimes.

There are many reasons why victims don’t report these crimes. “The way women respond to trauma is not always to speak up,” says Debra Persinger, executive director of the Federation of State Massage Therapy Boards. “They try and rationalize the trauma by thinking, ‘Oh, he didn’t mean to do that, it was just an accident.’ Some victims worry that they won’t be believed. Others may feel shame or embarrassment. Some even worry that they will ruin the massage therapist’s reputation.”

Another reason for the underreporting, according to Persinger, is that the victim hires a lawyer and ultimately agrees to an out-of-court settlement with the massage therapist’s insurance company. More often than not, these settlements come with a confidentiality provision, so they never get reported to the state boards and thus leave no public record of what happened.

Still, the scandal isn’t merely the abuse—it’s that Massachusetts’ shamefully weak oversight of this trust-based industry allowed it to happen in the first place. The Bay State requires far less of massage therapists, both in licensing and ongoing education, than the majority of states. Even more damning, when abuse happens, state officials do not take measures to alert the public to the identities of the massage therapists who have been disciplined. The result is a perfect storm of regulatory negligence and bureaucratic opacity that, far from creating a relaxing environment, may actually be putting Bay Staters in danger.

On a July afternoon in 2021, Allison—a pseudonym to protect her privacy—walked into the Cambridge Massage Envy, nestled between the Charles River and Trader Joe’s. It was a familiar spot, but she’d been increasingly uneasy about her sessions there. Her massage therapist, Javier Price, had been gradually pushing boundaries during her appointments: a hug after one session, an unexpected Facebook friend request after another, and even suggestions that he make house calls for future appointments, according to a complaint Allison filed with the Division of Occupational Licensure, which works with the massage board.

Still, it wasn’t until that Saturday in July that her massage therapist crossed an inviolable line. While touching her upper thigh, his hands moved to her inner thigh before he inserted his fingers inside her vagina, according to the complaint, which she filed in December 2021. According to the complaint, Allison says he violated her first while she lay on her stomach and then again when she was face up on the table. “I froze during the assault, feeling vulnerable and afraid on the table naked,” she wrote.

The regulatory board reached a decision in 2022, revoking Price’s license, state records show. Yet Price’s case was no isolated incident. Price, who could not be reached for comment, was just one of five Massage Envy therapists across Massachusetts who were sanctioned for sexual misconduct from 2022 to 2024. Three of them had their licenses revoked; the other two were placed on probation for a minimum of one and three years, respectively. A sixth disciplinary case against a local Massage Envy therapist is in the process of being investigated by the massage therapy board.

The problem extends far beyond Massachusetts’ borders. Massage Envy alone has faced nearly 200 claims of sexual assault nationwide. Hand & Stone, with four Massachusetts locations, has weathered similar lawsuits in other states and recently had one of its own therapists in Massachusetts disciplined for sexual misconduct, according to board records.

In response to these mounting concerns, the spa industry has attempted to self-regulate: Hand & Stone joined other chains to form the National Association of Spa Franchises, creating an Employment Verification System to flag therapists previously disciplined for safety violations, including sexual misconduct. Yet there’s a critical gap in this safety net. Massage Envy—one of the industry’s largest players—is not a member, unable to access or contribute to this screening data and raising the troubling question: Just how many predators are slipping through the cracks? (Massage Envy did not respond to multiple requests for comment.)

While massage businesses may choose to bypass safety protocols, what is far more disturbing is that the state regulatory board is failing to adequately perform its fundamental duty to protect the public.

While massage businesses may choose to bypass safety protocols, what is far more disturbing is that the state regulatory board is failing to adequately perform its fundamental duty to protect the public. Trying to research a massage therapist’s history before booking an appointment? The odds are stacked against you. Unlike states such as New York, New Jersey, and Delaware—where boards routinely issue media releases about disciplinary actions—the Massachusetts massage board keeps such information under wraps. What they delicately term “boundary violations” remain hidden from public view, leaving clients in the dark about potential predators.

The board’s lack of transparency goes even further. Other states make their disciplinary records publicly available on their websites, but not Massachusetts. While the state licensing board does keep a record of sanctioned massage therapists on its website, it does not include whether the sanction was for sexual misconduct or other infractions like unclean massage rooms. Yes, the board must legally respond to public records requests for this information—but what typical consumer would know to take that step? For those who even try, the obstacles are steep. When Boston sought board records, it took several requests and appeals to pry loose basic information about sanctioned therapists. And even after they were delivered, the documents had improperly claimed redactions that required appeals to remove.

The records themselves, when finally obtained, proved maddeningly vague. Sometimes, files contained nothing more than the bare phrase “sexual misconduct”—no details, no context, no explanation. In one case, a page of a complaint form had simply vanished, with the board unable to determine what happened to it. Yet amid this lack of transparency, the board managed a particularly glaring blunder: In one victim’s file, they neglected to redact her name, betraying the confidentiality promised to anyone who has the courage to report abuse.

Still, Massachusetts’ failings go far deeper than transparency. The state has one of the most lax prevention standards in the country. Of the 46 states with statewide requirements for massage therapy licensing, Massachusetts is one of only a handful that doesn’t require therapists to pass any form of licensing exam at all, whether state-administered or national. A massage school diploma showing 650 hours of training is all it takes—with no verification that graduates have actually mastered their craft or understood their ethical obligations. Yet the negligence doesn’t end there. Massachusetts joins five other states in allowing therapists to maintain their licenses without a drop of continuing education—in addition to the four states that have no statewide massage requirements—a requirement that industry experts consider crucial for reinforcing professional ethics and the consequences of violations.

Meanwhile, the board’s silence speaks as loudly as its failures. When asked why Massachusetts lags so far behind other states in regulatory oversight, officials offered very few answers. Both Kerry Cassidy, the massage therapy board’s executive director, and Sarah Wilkinson, commissioner of the Division of Occupational Licensure, declined multiple interview requests. Instead, Wilkinson offered only an emailed statement saying that they “take boundary violations and other complaints against licensed massage therapists very seriously” and are “committed to ensuring the safety and integrity of massage therapy services.” Yet time and again, the evidence appears to tell a different story.

Despite incidents at a few upscale venues, most of the region’s high-end spas have maintained clean records.

Despite incidents at upscale venues like Release Well-Being Center in Westborough and Miraval Berkshires in Lenox, most of the region’s high-end spas have maintained clean records. This could be due to more rigorous hiring practices and thorough employee training. The Breve Spa at the Omni Boston Hotel at the Seaport—the only luxury spa contacted in the Boston area willing to discuss its protocols—offers a window into these enhanced safety measures. According to spa director Pamela Maes, their approach begins before a therapist’s first appointment. “All spa staff undergo a background check prior to starting with the company,” she explains. “Training is the biggest component to a safe workplace for guests and staff. This starts on day one.” The spa takes its oversight further, employing a secret shopper program in which third-party evaluators book massages to assess both service quality and safety protocols.

Cambridge-based massage ethicist Ben Benjamin, who frequently testifies as an expert in sexual misconduct cases, has urged all massage establishments to go beyond basic screening. Through his work, he advocates for comprehensive vetting that includes checking criminal records and sex offender registries and doing deep dives into applicants’ digital footprints across social media and the wider internet. He also advises that businesses should give customers written client-education materials advising them on what behavior is acceptable from a massage therapist. He even suggests spas install alert buttons on the tables, citing research that shows such interventions reduce incidences of sexual assault during a massage. Yet even this emergency button falls short: Horowitz says that a few of his clients who are suing Hand & Stone told him they were never informed that the panic button existed.

While spas must certainly strengthen their safeguards, experts argue the state massage board’s failures run deeper. Instituting a standardized licensing exam and continuing education requirements, they say, would go a long way toward preventing abuse. A uniform statewide licensing exam “would increase the probability that massage therapists in the state are well trained in ethical practices, boundaries, draping, and the importance of maintaining a professional demeanor with clients” regardless of where they received their training, Horowitz says. He points out that continuing education is vital not only because “the topics that were taught 25 years ago in massage school are outdated,” but also because it helps therapists identify and report misconduct among their peers.

Yet the board’s lack of communication to the general public may be its biggest problem. Both Horowitz and Benjamin insist the board must make available information about predatory massage therapists that they sanction. Failing to do so doesn’t just leave potential victims in the dark; it may also discourage other survivors from coming forward. “When the information appears in the paper,” Benjamin says, “others come forward, like what happened with the #MeToo movement.” Each public revelation, they argue, can embolden other women to share their experiences, exposing predators who have so far not been brought to the board’s attention.

None of these safeguards, though, were in place to protect Jennifer, who was assaulted at JP’s Massage Therapy Center. Today, the trauma still haunts her. “I recently joined a gym, and they have a massage studio there, and when they were giving me a tour, they took me past the studio, and the person said, ‘You know, we have massages, and you get this discount as a member.’ And I saw the room, and I just felt sick to my stomach,” she says. Her psychotherapist believes she’s experiencing PTSD. “I am in a constant state of fight or flight,” Jennifer says, “with crippling panic attacks.”

The assault’s impact reached beyond her mental health, also derailing her career aspirations. Just days after the incident Jennifer was due to start a promising new position working with high-risk children. Yet she says she was so shaken from the incident that she feared her trauma might compromise her ability to handle critical situations, potentially putting children at risk. She ultimately did not take the new role and instead went back to her previous position—sacrificing job advancement and a significant salary bump for the sense of stability and safety she desperately needed. Meanwhile, across Massachusetts, massage rooms continue to operate under the same oversight that failed to protect her, leaving clients with no way to distinguish healing hands from harmful ones.