I’ve had a lot of massages in my life—Thai sessions that had me approaching joint dislocation, Balinese flower-oil rituals, quick chair sessions at the airport—but never one that came with a power switch. When I heard San Diego was welcoming its first fully robotic massage experience, I booked immediately. A therapist that never cancels, never gets tired, and runs on AI instead of espresso? I was intrigued.
So, I headed up to the airy Sunny’s Spa at The Seabird Resort in Oceanside—the only place in San Diego where you can swap your massage therapist for a motherboard (for now)—to try the Aescape Robotic Massage. Aescape, a New York–based wellness tech company, designs machines that use AI-driven body mapping and pressure-responsive sensors to bring robotics into the recovery space.
The Setup
The treatment room resembles your usual wellness sanctuary: soft music, dim lights, and a faint scent of eucalyptus. But the centerpiece is a futuristic bed outfitted with two sleek robotic arms and a touch screen glowing underneath the face cradle. A soft motorized hum hangs in the air, like the quiet, steady whirr of medical imaging equipment that decided to take up meditation. The mechanical arms remind me of aerospace parts, with rounded joints and silicone-coated contact surfaces designed to feel smooth rather than cold against the skin.
Before the massage begins, the machine asks me to customize my session. On the screen, I select which muscles need attention (shoulders, always shoulders!) and adjust the sliders for pressure, speed, and even the background music. It’s a bit like using a touch screen sandwich kiosk, but I’m ordering deep-tissue on my traps instead of toppings.
Once I hit start, a soft, mechanical undertow settles into the room, steady and intentional, in the way engineered movement finds its rhythm. The arms glide toward me, using body-scanning cameras and micro-pressure sensors embedded in the contact pads to reportedly capture 1.2 million data points and create a unique blueprint for my massage. Within seconds, I feel the first press—firm, even, deliberate.
The Sensation
At first, I’m hyperaware that I’m being touched by metal and plastic, not hands. The machine emits soft, occasional clicks—subtle reminders that gears are calibrating beneath the surface. But as the system finds its rhythm, the motions become hypnotic, long, sweeping strokes that never falter or fade. It’s strong, and the pressure stays consistent along the length of my spine.
Watching the screen becomes part of the experience. It’s easy to view and adjust the settings without moving my head. I watch my body map light up as sensors track the pressure and what’s next in the sequence. It’s empowering to be in control mid-massage, tweaking the intensity or skipping ahead with a tap.
But, eventually, curiosity gets the better of me. I decide to see what this machine can really do. I slide the pressure bar all the way to the max.
Within seconds, I’m gripping the sides of the bed, trying to tough it out. Apparently, my pain tolerance is more theoretical than practical, because I immediately stop breathing and my face enters deep regret mode. At one point, the force actually nudges me slightly to the side, and then, to add insult to injury, the machine calls me out.
The screen flashes: “Please reposition yourself on the table.”
I obediently scoot back into place, wondering if this is what accountability looks like in the age of wellness tech.
The Pros
Once I dial the pressure back to “still intense but survivable,” I start to appreciate how seamless the system really is. The robot doesn’t lose focus. It doesn’t forget which side it’s on. It doesn’t ask about weekend plans. And it doesn’t need a tip.
It also manages to reach places that human therapists often can’t—particularly the glutes and hamstrings, which it worked at angles that would challenge any mortal. According to the company, the Aescape is designed to replicate the seven touch techniques of a skilled therapist, and the evenness of pressure is uncanny. The real-time muscular response algorithm continuously adjusts based on how your tissue compresses and rebounds.
For anyone who loves precision—like data-driven wellness types or folks who need silence and consistency to really relax—it’s kind of genius.
The Cons
Of course, not everything translates. The robot skips my neck, scalp, hands, and feet entirely—areas that, for me, make a massage feel complete. And while the pressure is technically perfect, it lacks the subtle intuition of a human therapist who knows to spend more time on certain areas when they feel extra tension.
Then there’s the warmth—or lack thereof. The metal arms can mimic motion, but not empathy. Our bodies are actually wired to respond to human touch on a deep physiological level. Specialized nerve fibers, called C-tactile afferents, are tuned to slow, intentional contact, the kind of steady, reassuring pressure a skilled therapist uses without thinking. When these fibers are activated, they can help lower stress hormones and release oxytocin, the hormone of trust and connection. In other words, touch isn’t just mechanical pressure; it’s communication. And a robot, however precise, can’t quite speak that language yet.
The Verdict
When the arms finally retract, there is a soft hydraulic sigh, like the machine itself exhaling. I realize I’d stopped thinking about the mechanics altogether. My body feels loose, my mind clear. Somewhere between skepticism and surrender, I’d slipped into that blissful in-between space—proof that relaxation doesn’t always require a pair of hands.
Still, I missed the messy, intuitive parts of a session with a real masseuse: the warmth of skin, the instinctive pacing, the subtle humanity that no algorithm can replicate. The whole thing felt slightly clinical, like being pampered by a very polite machine that will absolutely not hold your hand.
So, is it the future of wellness? Possibly. For people who enjoy consistency, control, and the novelty of saying “my massage therapist runs on software updates?” Absolutely. But for those who crave connection, this feels more like a clever supplement than a full replacement.
Would I do it again? Definitely—especially after a long flight or tough workout. But next time, I’ll keep the pressure setting somewhere below “robotic vengeance.”
The Nitty-Gritty
WHAT: Aescape Robotic Massage
WHERE: Sunny’s Spa & Beauty Lounge at The Seabird Resort, Oceanside
(In other cities, Aescape units are found inside Equinox gyms and premium spas—recovery meets luxury.)
DETAILS: Aescape’s fully automated massage system uses AI and real-time sensors to deliver a personalized, oil-free session. Guests remain clothed in the soft apparel provided, and the machine adjusts to your body’s shape, pressure tolerance, and selected zones.
PRICE: Starts at $75 for 30 minutes with spa amenities included. Prices vary by location and duration.
PARTNER CONTENT
VIBE: Quietly futuristic—think high-tech meets high-touch, minus the small talk.
PRO TIP: Keep the pressure moderate unless you want to be gently shamed by a robot.
