I went on a crystal massage journey to see if it could energetically charge my love life

Crystals are the one woo-woo health trend I’ve never been able to embrace. From a looks perspective, I totally get it. Even I have a gorgeous clear quartz that sits on my bedroom dresser. Yet, I look at it and wonder, how in the world is this little rock supposed to do anything for me? (Don’t even get me started on the concept of “charging” it by the moonlight.)

What I do know is that, since ancient times, people have used crystals for both spiritual and health-related rituals. Because of all of their purported “energy healing powers,” lots of healthy gals now pocket them and treat them as must-have home accessories—much like succulents. Even the Olsen Twins have jumped on the high-vibe bandwagon. There’s a whole slew of different types out there—each with its own unique properties. Some can supposedly do things like help cope with stress, while others improve communication, and dull the pain of heartache.

So, when I get the chance to try a crystal massage journey at The Confidante Miami Beach, I’m skeptical at best. But I figure anything in the name of relaxation and journalism, right? The treatment, which costs $145 and involves a 50-minute grounding massage, can be customized to focus on one of three areas: 1. boost your energy, focus, and clarity; 2. deepen your love and trust for both yourself and others and improve communication; 3. heighten your intuition, calm and detoxify your system. As a single 30-year-old female, I’m game for any help I can get with all things relationships, so I go with the second option.

Six different crystal spheres sit on small pedestals in front of me. They look like massage balls, just made out of metaphysical rocks instead of rubber.

I rinse off in an outdoor shower before stepping into my bathrobe and entering a dimly lit room where six different crystal spheres (two each of clear quartz, rose quartz, and amethyst, one six-inch size, and one three-inch in size) sit on small pedestals in front of me. They come from Glacce, the makers of those sold out crystal water bottles, and look like massage balls, just made out of metaphysical rocks instead of rubber.

My massage therapist pours some rose water on top of a pink crystal I recognize as rose quartz and hands it to me in a champagne glass to sip. The elixir, she says, is supposed to promote detoxification and healthy digestion. She then encourages me to choose a sphere, and I settle on one of the rose quartz orbs. She tells me it’s the stone of unconditional love and ideal for the type of energy work I’m after.

I’m having what I can only describe as daydreams of men that I’ve spoken to at one point or another during the summer.

I lie down on the massage table, and she starts going back and forth between traditional massage techniques and rolling the sphere along my calves, lower back, arms—the whole shebang. I’m obscenely relaxed, as one tends to be in any sort of spa environment. Toward the end of the treatment, however, I notice that I’m having what I can only describe as daydreams of men that I’ve spoken to at one point or another during the summer. I come back to reality with a slight jolt as she finishes by rolling the ball on my left foot before leaving so I can get dressed.

So, what do I think? The water was delicious. The massage was idyllic. In my perfect world, I would’ve left this love-promoting crystal experience, walked back down to the gorgeous pool surrounded by blue-striped cabanas, and met the man of my dreams while sipping chilled rosé. In reality, there was no dreamboat to be found and I went back to having a nice weekend away with girlfriends.

Still, when I return to New York, I observe throughout the busy work week that follows that I’m not as stressed as I normally am after some time away. I feel appreciative of the work I do, myself, and what I’m capable of in ways that sometimes get overlooked. Is this heightened sense of self-love a sign that the crystals worked their magic? Who knows. But more importantly, when I feel this good, does it matter?