January 10th, 2020

The following blog post was written by a client of Dr. Doser's and has been reprinted here at her request.

​“If you squint like that, you’re going to get wrinkles,” my mother would say to me from the time I was in elementary school. The amblyopia and light-sensitive, far-sighted eyes led to the brow-furrowing habit that never abated due to the fact that I like being able to see. Glasses helped me see but didn’t stop the squinting habit – even when I do remember where I left them.

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​"I’m the natural girl – the hippie chick minus the patchouli and comestibles. Keens, no bangs, hair down, casual."

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I’m the natural girl – the hippie chick minus the patchouli and comestibles. Keens, no bangs, hair down, casual. I’m not a stunner but I mostly feel okay with how I look. Consideration for my appearance has waxed and waned with how I felt about my weight and how much emotional, financial, and logistical bandwidth I had left after homeschooling two girls, having three more babies, running a business with 25 employees, and hosting a weekly home group.

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"I had noticed that when I took pictures over the last couple years (I am 47 now), I looked old. No position could make the wrinkles disappear."

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The thought of having medical aesthetic work done never really occurred to me before recently. I had noticed that when I took pictures over the last couple years (I am 47 now), I looked old. No position could make the wrinkles disappear. They exist no matter the cream I use, smile I modify, or facial gymnastic I try to execute for the sake of the camera. People would ask me why I was scowling, and I’d say I’m just squinting because of the light. My mother always said I looked tired. I notice that the eyes of men don’t stay like they used to. These are hard things. I try to face them directly and always with humor, but the sense of being looked over and not feeling as desirable weighs on me. 

Recently I found out that a couple of my friends, who look fantastic, have been having Botox injections for a couple of years. My first thought was, “That’s so shallow!” That was followed not long after with, “Hey, if they are doing it, maybe I should / could / will think about it.” Notably, these are not shallow women. They work for highly competitive companies in highly competitive industries. They are caring, involved women. I had no idea that they had been having work done except that they don’t look tired. 

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"Would I like the look? Would I still be able to express myself? How would my family and my children feel about it? Was it a slippery slope of vanity and inauthenticity?"

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My friends’ use allowed me to explore the idea more deeply. I pondered how this would effect me as much emotionally as physically. Would I like the look? Would I still be able to express myself? How would my family and my children feel about it? Was it a slippery slope of vanity and inauthenticity? I finally wrestled with the answers to these questions, which allowed me to choose my next step. I was unhappy with my current look. Judging by my besties, I was going to like the softening of my wrinkles and it would look natural, not artificial.  I had not noticed an inability for them to express themselves. I would still be able laugh, smile, inflect, and wink; they certainly did. Legitimately, my family and children would ask the same questions that circled my brain. 

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"As much as I thought a good pantsuit would help me out, I realized that Botox should no longer be considered frivolous or vain. How useful are heels? They serve me no purpose. They are painful and I would rather wear Keens... I am competing in a tech-heavy industry against women half my age. Remaining brilliant but aged, regardless of how okay I was with it, was not going to help me find employment."

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What finally pushed me over the edge was a need for a job. It is known that beautiful people get hired, earn more money, have more power, have better mentors, get promoted more often, and that even doe-eyed babies look at their faces longer (Bennett, Newsweek, Jul 19, 2010). I will be looking for employment soon armed with a second degree and an additional social media marketing certification. As much as I thought a good pantsuit would help me out, I realized that Botox should no longer be considered frivolous or vain. How useful are heels? They serve me no purpose. They are painful and I would rather wear Keens but they are not appropriate for a professional interview. My same acceptance of heels for work would play into my acceptance of help to create a refreshed and natural exterior. My reality is truly ugly. I am competing in a tech-heavy industry against women half my age. Remaining brilliant but aged, regardless of how okay I was with it, was not going to help me find employment. It was time that I sought treatment, not to become a supermodel, but to keep me viable in a biased, complex, and uncompromising work force.