I'm Not Ashamed of the Enhancements I've Made to My Face

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From Woman’s Day

When I was pregnant with my third child at 44, my face filled out a bit - as it did every time I was pregnant.

Only this time I noticed that I actually looked better.

I realized that the creases on either side of my mouth (aka nasolabial or laugh lines) had disappeared. Obviously, this was due to the weight gain of pregnancy, but I couldn’t help but focus on the fact that I looked good and wanted to stay looking good. But my son was born, I lost the weight, and the creases returned.

I’d never been one to focus much on aging. I’ve been lucky in that I’ve always looked younger than my age, and so I never thought much about how time might ultimately take its toll. But I was not happy with the way I looked. And it wasn’t because I thought I looked older. It was more that I looked more drawn. More tired. And there was no amount of sunscreen, youth serum, or concealer that was going to fix it.

For me, the answer was simple: Filler.

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I met with several professionals and wound up using a plastic surgeon that was highly recommended. He respected my wishes to just soften and diminish the creases - not fill them up completely, making me look rigid. The results were undetectable to the world, but extremely noticeable to me. And I couldn’t have been happier.

I didn’t suddenly look younger – nor was that the goal. But I looked less tired, less haggard, more like what I wanted to see when I looked in the mirror. I’ve gone back every 8 to 9 months for a touch-up since.

So I knew just who I wanted to speak to - about a year ago - when I noticed that my always-droopy lids had gotten significantly droopier. I knew part of this was genetic, as my mom has the same eyelids. But beyond that, I could actually feel my lids sitting on top of my lashes. When I looked at myself in pictures my eyes looked practically closed.

When I met with my doctor for my crease fillers, I asked his opinion. He said, point-blank, “you should consider getting your lids done.” I was extremely skeptical about the success of this procedure, as I’d seen way too many women (both in the tabloids as well as in my own town) that looked like deer permanently caught in the headlights. My doctor explained that those women had likely had face lifts - while he proposed, for me, something else: cutting away the excess skin just enough to remove the droop and give me back a natural looking crease. I said yes.

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I’m not trying to pass for my 25-year-old daughter’s twin sister. I simply look at this as part of the arsenal I use to maintain a good appearance.

It’s been about two months since the surgery, and I am thrilled. Nobody (who hasn’t been told, of course) can tell, yet when I look at myself the difference is huge. I don’t look “younger.” I simply look “better.”

I’m not the least bit ashamed of any of this - and I readily share my experience. I’m not trying to land a magazine cover or pass for my 25-year-old daughter’s twin sister. I’m not trying to turn back the clock, nor am I afraid of getting older.

I simply look at this as part of the arsenal I use to maintain a good appearance. I color my hair. I use mascara. I watch what I eat, and (reluctantly) exercise to stay trim. If there is a safe and accessible way to enhance or improve my appearance in other ways, I see no shame in doing so.

As a society, we’re guilty of a conflicted duality: prizing beauty but shaming those who don’t get there ‘naturally.’

Social media -which floods our phones and screens with horrifying images of “plastic surgery gone wrong” - can be credited with the stigma that this kind of surgery has. We don’t want to be lumped in with those celebrities who have clearly had too much work, essentially obliterating their natural appearance. Yet we also, as a society, are guilty of a conflicted duality: prizing beauty but shaming those who don’t get there “naturally.”

By being open about my procedures - and having the natural results to back up my case - I hope to redirect the conversation and eliminate the stigma.

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