We’re looking forward to introducing you to Elizabeth McIrvin. Check out our conversation below.
Elizabeth, we’re thrilled to have you with us today. Before we jump into your intro and the heart of the interview, let’s start with a bit of an ice breaker: What are you being called to do now, that you may have been afraid of before?
For a long time, I never wanted to merge my two identities: Massage Therapist and Artist. The reasons might be fairly obvious.
When I started performing stand-up comedy at open mics and doing improv in small black box theaters, do you think I was revealing to a bunch of raunchy, perpetually single, incel-type men saturating the comedy scene that I did massage? Heck no. The very few times I did, it went exactly as I suspected. “Do you give happy endings?” Don’t even get me started on that being one of the laziest, unfunniest jokes of all time. I just wasn’t bulletproof enough to take the taunting, which as a comedian, I should have been able to handle; or at least tell myself that these were uneducated fools who didn’t make anyone laugh as hard as they thought they did. I should have carried myself with more confidence in who I was, because looking back, I don’t care what they thought of me at all. I just regret not being myself more.
There was also a real hesitation to share because I wanted to work with these people on sets, not be the one lugging my massage table back to my car after massaging someone in their movie trailer. I really battled with not wanting to use massage therapy to get into doors, but also not risking blocking any.
But after almost a decade of doing that in Los Angeles, it hasn’t served me. I think I might have even missed out on some really big opportunities because I was too intimidated or afraid to simply be who I really am.
Yes, I am a massage therapist, but that’s just one small facet of the thousands of little slivers that make up who I am.
Lately, I’ve started realizing that keeping those two sides of myself separate was never protecting me; it was limiting me. The truth is, the artist in me needs the healer in me just as much as the healer needs the artist. My experiences in massage have taught me more about human connection, pain, and resilience than any acting class or comedy workshop ever could. Now, I’m learning to let those worlds overlap, to create from the same hands that heal.
Can you briefly introduce yourself and share what makes you or your brand unique?
My name is Elizabeth McIrvin. I’m a Licensed Massage Therapist working and living in Los Angeles. I’m also the author of the book “Stop Asking Me for a Happy Ending: Soft & Hard Times of a Hollywood Massage Therapist.”
I think what I do best, and what is unique to me as both a person and a healer, is my ability to find. I’m like a muscle detective. If a client wants to get to the bottom of their pain, where it could be coming from, and what they can do about it, I will interview them and talk it through with them. While I’m doing that, I’m massaging and taking notes about what I’m finding on the body, looking at the usual suspects. The left hip doesn’t move as easily as the right, their ankles are slightly swollen, their neck has a hard time moving side to side.
Sometimes we can be so wrapped up in our minds and our own thoughts that it becomes hard to fully be in our bodies and take stock of where we are experiencing pain. Our stressors and aches might seem obvious, but the brain is powerful when it wants to ignore something. Sometimes you need an expert detective to help reveal what is hidden.
That is my uniqueness as a massage therapist. As a person, I would also say it is rare that I am not only a therapist but also a writer, improviser, musician, and director. There is so much I want to say about the massage industry, to start much-needed conversations and to dispel misconceptions. I hope that my voice as a creative can bring both levity and insight to people’s minds about this work.
Great, so let’s dive into your journey a bit more. What’s a moment that really shaped how you see the world?
The first year I was a massage therapist really shaped how I see the world. I went into my massage program as a naïve eighteen-year-old who just wanted to stop working at Subway. When I graduated, got licensed, and started working, I learned the world was a much darker and more sexist place than I had thought; and I already thought it was pretty bad to begin with.
After I got licensed in 2012, I started posting ads online advertising massage. I’m sure you can already guess what kind of responses I was getting. I was shocked. Before massage school, I hadn’t even heard a “happy ending” joke. I came from a religious family and was around a lot of women. These sexual connotations to the job were a very foreign idea to me.
When I started working at more established spas, I thought that surely nothing like that would happen there and if it did, it would be taken seriously. But again, I’m sure you can guess. I was constantly flashed and hinted at to do “extra.” I would immediately end the massage each time and report the client. Was anyone ever charged with a crime or banned from the location? Not once.
This taught me that sexual crimes against women are rarely taken seriously and that too often, police, judges, and even spa owners do not care about the safety of an entire workforce.
I was angry for a long time, angry that I had spent so much time studying, learning the body inside and out just like anyone in the medical field, taking expensive exams, and jumping through licensing hurdles, only for people to try to get me to touch them in a place that was definitely not covered in massage school. After I got through some of that anger, not all of it, I decided to do something about it. I began channeling that fire, the same one those experiences lit in me, into writing and advocacy for massage therapists.
If you could say one kind thing to your younger self, what would it be?
I think if I were to say one kind thing to my younger self, it would be: “Every piece of heartbreak, embarrassment, self-loathing, or doubt in yourself is temporary and necessary to make up the person you are going to one day become.”
Alright, so if you are open to it, let’s explore some philosophical questions that touch on your values and worldview. What’s a belief or project you’re committed to, no matter how long it takes?
I want to advocate for fair pay for massage therapists and I don’t care how long it takes.
Right now, most massage therapists make only 10%–30% of the service cost. That means a therapist might earn just $18–$30 from a $100–$130 massage.
This is a rare industry where our hands, strength, knowledge, and healing are the product itself. Fifty percent should be the bare minimum and that’s what I’m advocating for. At least half of every massage cost should go directly to the therapist.
I work in Hollywood, California. You’d think people here would assume massage therapists are doing well financially. But every therapist I know in this city is barely surviving. Spa owners, however, are often the loudest voices against fair pay. They panic at the idea that their million-dollar homes, Italian vacations, or new luxury cars might have to wait another year.
Whenever there’s talk about raising the minimum wage, we hear the same tired line: “Oh great, now prices will go up.” But it doesn’t have to be that way. Owners just want to keep getting paid the same, so instead of taking a smaller cut, they’d rather raise prices to the point where regular people can no longer afford a massage. Owners don’t want to earn less, even though it’s not truly a pay cut.
For decades, spa owners have grown wealthy off the backs of underpaid massage therapists. Enough is enough. Take the smaller share. Let us do our work. Let us heal. You’ll still be more than fine. This is the insanity of business and money: the ones who have the most fight hardest to keep it, while the ones who have the least are told to be grateful.
We wouldn’t even be having this conversation if it were realistic for massage therapists to start their own businesses. Most of us don’t have the savings, capital, or credit to do so. And then there’s the institutionalized sexism of it all — that so many spas are owned by wealthy men profiting off the labor of underpaid women who can never seem to rise above their class.
Spa owners also benefit from the illusion that we’re paid well. Of course clients assume that if they are spending around $130 dollars on a massage that the therapist would be getting a significant portion of that.
Changing the mindset of spa owners will be a difficult fight but the even harder battle is my advocacy to legalize sex work — another issue deeply connected to massage therapy and safety. It’s not a popular cause among politicians, but legalization would protect both sex workers and massage therapists by setting clear boundaries that these are two seperate professions.
No more blurred lines. No more fear of being punished for reporting harassment.
Changing the laws won’t be easy, especially when so many people in power — police officers, judges, district attorneys — have personally exploited sex workers or sympathize with the men who harm them. That’s why the laws remain as they are: sex workers face months or years in jail, while men who assault them often walk free. It’s backward and deliberately protects predators.
I don’t know exactly where this path of advocacy will lead me, but I know I’m not stopping. I’m passionate, I’m relentless, and I believe this work — for fair pay, fairness in law, and basic dignity — might take me far.
Before we go, we’d love to hear your thoughts on some longer-run, legacy type questions. Are you doing what you were born to do—or what you were told to do?
I think in a way, I am doing both.
I grew up very religious, in the Catholic Church. Serving God was all anyone talked about, all the time. Women served God by being wives, mothers, and churchgoers. I wondered to myself, is that really the limit of what I can do? Can I still serve God in a way that fosters my passions and brings me joy? I clearly resisted the suffering expectation of Catholicism. I didn’t want to live like that.
I remember one night sitting in my family’s computer room, googling questions like “What’s the purpose of life (for a Catholic)?” I even made sure to “religify” my search so I’d get an answer I could actually work with. What I found on a few religious blogs—basically the interpretations of random people (but hey, that’s what priests are too, right?)—said that God blesses His children with gifts, and our purpose is to discover those gifts and share them with the world.
If you have a gift for arguing, maybe you use it to defend the defenseless as an attorney.
If you have a gift for caring for animals, you dedicate your life to protecting God’s creatures.
My passion has always been writing, storytelling, and filmmaking.
So I decided I would tell stories that I’m passionate about, voices I want to lift up, and issues I want to bring light to. If even a small piece of good comes from that, maybe it will ripple out into the world in its own quiet way.
I’m not as “religious” as I used to be. I haven’t stepped inside a church in a very long time. Despite that, the core idea still remains mostly the same. I prefer to think in a more spiritual context now. I still believe we are born with gifts that we can use to spread love and joy into the world, and each one is valuable in its own way.
Over time, maybe my book “Stop Asking Me for a Happy Ending: Hard and Soft Times of a Hollywood Massage Therapist” will reach more people. Maybe my articles about the massage industry will resonate with the right audience and inspire real change.
Contact Info:
- Website: https://medium.com/@elizabethmcirvin
- Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@elizabethmcirvin
- Other: AMAZON: https://a.co/d/aCkh58T
Image Credits
Gregory Wallace
