About Miguel, the Travelling Masseur.

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I'm Miguel.

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After some time in, and too many men, I'm better at this than I was before, which is about the most honest thing anyone can say about hands and massage.

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I came to this late, at thirty-four, after a life that looked perfect from the outside and came apart anyway. Took a year to rebuild. Less of it is recognisable now, but more of it is mine. Without that year I'd be no use at this at all.

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Ottawa is home, but it isn't where the work is, so I mostly travel. Suits me more than I expected. I arrive from nowhere and I leave for nowhere. It works — a man will tell me things he'd never say to someone who's still going to be around on Monday.

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There's no photograph of me anywhere on here. That's deliberate and I'm sure it costs me bookings. Attraction isn't just a body and I didn't do anything to earn my face. The writing, on the other hand, I had to work hard at.

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So it lives here. Essays on bipolar I, addiction, rebuilding, and no redemption arcs. On the same site as the booking page on purpose. Read a couple of pieces and you'll know exactly who's turning up.