Meet the Only Professional Cuddler in Iowa
by Natalie Mechem
When Michelle White decided she wanted to be a professional cuddler, her family asked a lot of questions. “You’re not having sex with people?” and “How many people want to have sex with you?” and simply “What is it you’re doing?” to name a few. Although White has been cuddling professionally for two years now, the industry is so new that answering questions about it is still a significant part of her job.
With any service that involves physical touch, it’s easy to assume it’s sexual, but White’s relationships with her clients are strictly platonic. She follows a code of conduct established by the agency she received her certification from and has her own personal screening process to ensure that she and the client both feel comfortable. “It’s unfortunate how there’s a taboo around touch in general and that wanting to have that connection with somebody is somehow going to have a sexual component,” says one of her clients, who requested to remain anonymous. “You spend ten minutes with Michelle and it becomes very clear that it’s an incredibly platonic, safe space she sets up.”
White’s apartment doubles as her workspace, tucked into a peaceful neighborhood of downtown Des Moines. There’s a soft couch and a collection of pillows and blankets, making the room feel cozy for her clients. “We start out by doing a breathing exercise to help them come into the space and leave the outside world out there,” she says. She encourages them to lead. “They come with this belief that I’m the expert…but we’re all the experts on our own bodies,” she says. She asks the client what positions they visualized when they made their appointment. They do more exercises, this time to practice saying “no” to each other, creating a culture where changing their minds is okay. Then, it’s up to the client to decide whether they want to cuddle on her couch, on her bed, or on a massage mat.
Although White’s family had questions about her choice to become a certified cuddler, they weren’t at all shocked. White has always had a passion for connecting with people. “The best way I can show up for myself and have the most self-compassion is by serving others,” she says. She’s worked in the beauty industry for twenty years, allowing her to interact with people intimately in both types of work she does. “I thought [cuddling] would be a little side thing, and then I realized how much I loved it and how naturally it comes to me,” she says.
As much as White loves working closely with her clients, it is emotional labor. She limits her sessions to a total of five hours a day, spending a maximum of two hours with each client so she can be at her best. For some, an appointment with her is the only slot in their week where they feel accepted. “When they tell me that I’m the only one that they can talk to or I’m the only one that touches them or I’m the only one that accepts them…that pain is sometimes really palpable,” she says.
White’s client started seeing her because as a person with a significant disability, most of his experiences with touch had been negative. People see White for a vast array of other reasons — everyone from college students who are missing home to people in their seventies seeking touch for its medical benefits. 98 percent of White’s client base is male. For the few women she sees, it’s all about empowerment. “Asking for what they want, saying no to what they don’t,” White says. “So many women have been conditioned to be receptive to men but not exactly like ‘Hey, this would feel good to me, will you do this?’” Cuddle sessions give them an opportunity to ask for what they want so they can walk out feeling empowered.
Touch doesn’t just help White’s clients; it also helps her through her own healing process. She is a survivor of childhood sexual abuse and rape, and she has lost a child. “Someone will come in here and say something and I’m like ‘Wow, that used to be how I felt about things,’” she says. Interacting with clients she can relate to encourages her to continue growing while still reminding her how far she has come.
Her experience shapes the way she approaches her work — with compassion and empathy. And without any judgment. “I can hold space for people like you wouldn’t believe,” she says. “I am at a place in my healing where it’s not raw anymore and I feel like all of those things have been a gift to me. So if I can make the tiniest difference for wherever they are in that journey and healing, that’s what I’m all about.”
