Sorry You Hate My Cosmetic Procedures
If my Botox injections exist to tame my physical trauma, then my veneers exist to tame my psychological trauma.
Matt Gaetz’s face. Whew.
The 42-year-old U.S. Representative debuted a new look at the Republican National Convention two weeks ago and people immediately noticed. Esquire even asked a board-certified dermatologist to weigh in on what exactly happened.
The dermatologist, by the way, said Gaetz’s face is a result of too much filler, coupled with bad placement.
“It’s too heavy in the forehead and not lateral enough to prevent Spock Eye,” Esquire’s expert Corey L. Hartman said.
Gaetz’s face debut is one extreme example of many public figures exhibiting some uncanny valley vibes.
When the show It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia premiered season 16 in June 2023, I wasn’t the only person who noticed things were off with The Gang. Fans began pointing out the cast’s face evolutions, blaming plastic surgery and Botox.
The show stood out, particularly because the characters are gritty Philadelphians with little money—not exactly candidates for cosmetic procedures.
These are two examples of recent criticism public figures receive for their cosmetic choices. Plastic surgery isn’t new in Hollywood, however, as the industry grows and procedures become more accessible, the prevalence seems stronger. In recent years, people began picking up on actors’ faces going from perfect to too perfect for comfort.
Now that I’m attuned to the ultra-perfect sheen on celebrities, I can’t unsee it. When criticism surrounding President Joe Biden’s age became louder, the 81-year-old’s face became tighter.
Yes, I got a good laugh out of how unnatural President Biden’s insecurity made him look. However, I can’t judge because I’m part of the epidemic.
I am one of those people who have veneers, and I get Botox every three months. In participating in these practices, I’ve come to realize that while the motivation for getting cosmetic procedures is complicated, society still sees it in black and white.
(Editor’s note: While I do not condone mocking someone’s appearance, I make exceptions for shitty people who are active in making people’s lives worse. And that’s why spit flew out my mouth when I saw the Matt Gaetz joke.)
My life is better with Botox
My primary care physician suggested Botox for migraine.
I knew people with migraine who received Botox injections and heard the procedure was life-changing. I wanted that for my situation and jumped at my doc’s suggestion.
I didn’t know what to expect from my first appointment. I was wary about getting needles in my face but thought it wouldn’t be that bad if so many other people could handle it.
IT. SUCKS.
My headache specialist, Dr. Audrey Sanders, is an angel on Earth. She is kind, gentle, engaging and easy to talk to. Good doctors are hit-or-miss, so I am lucky she’s on my team.
Botox fits into my budget, however, the experience taught me it is a very expensive procedure if you want to do it right and with caution.
I pay roughly $350 annually for Botox. The rest is covered by insurance and the Botox Savings Program, which reimburses medical Botox patients up to $1,600 per visit. Based on my most recent claim, the total cost for one session (without insurance/financial assistance) is $3,176.
I need four sessions per year, so for those who don’t want to do the math, that’s $12,704 annually.
Before Botox, a migraine attack would knock me out at least 24 hours, if not 48 hours. It was common to have three-day attacks, with vomiting going into the third day. I’d get anywhere from one to two of these multi-day attacks monthly.
Between 2020 and 2022, my worst years for migraine pain, I went to urgent care twice and the emergency room once. I was throwing up so much that I went from 115 pounds to 102 pounds. Things got dark and desperate.
In the two years since I’ve started Botox, my migraine severity has been knocked down by at least 60 percent. My little headaches, which seemed constant, are gone as well.
I noticed a significant difference earlier this year, approximately 18 months after my first appointment. My clothes from the last two years fit differently. The scale showed a consistent 122 pounds and I started getting curves! Small as they are, these lovely lady lumps were physical proof I was healthier.
Cosmetic procedures as trauma responses
When I think about my personal experiences with cosmetic procedures and compare them with those of public figures, I notice many procedures are rooted in trauma.
A study found verbal bullying is the main factor that motivates people to undergo cosmetic surgery. Joe Biden got bullied for being too old for the job, so he tried to turn back the clock to prove them wrong.
Another example is socialite and reality star, Khloe Kardashian.
Since the Kardashian/Jenner family debuted with their reality show, Keeping Up with the Kardashians, Khloe has endured endless bullying and abuse. She’s been the target of paternity rumors, put down for her weight and appearance and is constantly compared to her sisters. Joy Behar even called Khloe “different pretty” in a live interview.
The bullying has even come from her own family members. She’s been told to lose weight so she wouldn’t hurt the family brand, and in an episode before Caitlyn Jenner transitioned, she is seen telling Khloe to lose a few pounds.
These attitudes toward Khloe aren’t recent, either. In a December 2013 interview, Khloe offered insight into her childhood.
"Words are the most powerful weapon; they can leave scars forever. She didn't mean harm, but when I was around nine I overheard my mom telling her friend I needed a nose job. I was shocked; I hadn't even thought about it. I've grown into my face but I've had makeup artists tell me, 'You should get a nose job.' I'm so happy that I never have…
Khloe Kardashian to Cosmopolitan in 2013
Yet, she is criticized whenever she alters her body, meaning she can’t make anybody happy. While I acknowledge Khloe has privilege and access to luxuries most of us could only imagine, it still doesn’t solve the kind of hurt inflicted on her over the years.
People will think you are dirty
If my Botox injections exist to tame my physical trauma, then my veneers exist to tame my psychological trauma.
While I can’t relate to Khloe on many things (especially the being rich part), I understand what it’s like to change your appearance to escape comments.
I have always been at battle with my teeth. Braces helped correct the mocking I received for their crookedness but I’d still have half a lifetime ahead of me before I’d correct the stains on my front two teeth.
With me since childhood, I learned they developed from taking antibiotics as an ‘80s baby. I tried the trendy teeth-whitening gel but the stains weren’t surface, they were embedded and impossible to treat with any whitening elements.
I resigned myself to the fact they’d be with me forever, however, my self-esteem took a hit with this knowledge. I could not control the unsolicited comments that constantly got me down and knew they were always around the corner.
I doubt I’d be as embarrassed if nobody pointed them out.
“What’s on your teeth?”
“Why is that there?”
“Let me rub that off for you.”
“Have you tried removing it?”
“If you don’t get that taken care of, people will think you are dirty.”
That last one was from a dentist in Philadelphia. The appointment started with him putting down my job title, red flag number one. He couldn’t let it go, saying my title was made up to make me feel good. Being someone who takes pride in my work, his antagonisms made me incredibly angry.
Things got worse when I sat in the chair and he immediately focused on my stains. I was there for a cleaning and thought that would be the focus. Nope. He was offended by the mere existence of these stains and shared how he could remove them.
I said ‘No’ multiple times.
“If you don’t get that taken care of, people will think you are dirty.”
That’s when he said it, probably offended I wasn’t interested in what he was selling.
It’s no surprise I left without scheduling a follow-up appointment. When I came back to work, my boss made a crack about my migraine attacks being a ‘hobby.’ It wasn’t a good day.
That experience was so mentally agonizing that it put me off from visiting a dentist for another three years. Dental trauma is not uncommon. My dear friend Adryan wrote about it in their Substack (please subscribe to it, by the way) and how healing it was to find a good dentist.
In 2021, I found my good dentist. The office is very strict about its no-shaming rule. They do not care about the last time you stepped foot in a dentist’s office, they are just happy you are there. They are the ones who helped me, without pressure or insults, decide on getting veneers on my front two teeth.
It has been three years since I had two veneers placed onto my front teeth and I’ve noticed the trauma still finds a way to slip out. I can’t stop covering my mouth when I laugh and am still afraid to schedule a dental appointment. Adding to my anxiety, my good dentist stopped taking my insurance last year.
After a month of putting it off, I finally scheduled a dental appointment for November this year. I am terrified of what I’m about to walk into but I know two things are different this time:
I won’t face any stain comments
I have Botox on my side to handle anxiety-triggered migraine attacks
Sorry you hate my cosmetic procedures
Veneers and Botox may be falling out of favor but I will continue to get Botox as long as it financially allows. I hope it continues to make my pain dissipate, however, I am happy if these are my only results.
Botox is now considered a medical procedure, so I have technically had one cosmetic surgery. Still, it took a long time to share my new migraine regimen with others. “Botox” has a lot of weight attached to it and I needed time to sort out how that weight made me feel.
Now that I’m more comfortable sharing about Botox, I’ve noticed many people cannot separate it from its cosmetic purposes. I receive comments that my forehead looks shiner, that my frozen-in-time head is a bonus side-effect, etc.
While some migraine patients could interpret these comments as positive, I don’t. My forehead is paralyzed, which means I physically cannot move it on its own. In addition to losing emotional expression, I can’t feel a quarter of my face. (Not like that.) I find the sensation incredibly eerie.
My forehead looks inconsistent, too. My injections are in areas that treat migraine, not aging. This means some wrinkles do poke through, creating what I like to call Botox Black Holes—wrinkles surrounding patches on my forehead that are smooth and shiny. These things are not bonuses.
That doesn’t mean I’m against people who indulge in Botox cosmetically. God bless Nicole Kidman’s beautiful, smooth face. Seriously. I recently watched her attempt a horrible American accent in a limited series. Just atrocious. I didn’t care because she just glowed in every scene, even when she mentally broke down. The sentence ‘Wow, Nicole Kidman has been jaw-droppingly beautiful my entire life’ ran through my head.
I hold space for public figures (again, not the shitty ones) whose appearances go through so much scrutiny. I understand why Hollywood’s players alter their looks. They are making the same choices I made, just magnified by a billion.
Let’s put this in perspective really quick. I’ve only had a few dozen people comment on my tooth stains. Imagine if that number were in the millions. I get it. I’d probably have a bright-white Chiclet mouth, too.
Overall, I feel happy and satisfied with my choices and don’t plan to add other procedures. My veneers and Botox are doing their jobs well and that’s enough for me. If anyone has a problem, you can take it up with my improved health and self-esteem.
I live with chronic migraine, which affects how much work I can take on. On average, I lose one workweek a month to migraine attacks. Not a Fit for Our Publication is my way to raise funds to manage my disease while offering something in return. You can help me out by subscribing to Not a Fit for Our Publication, sharing the website, sharing a free blog post and gifting a subscription.
So far, I am aging naturally. By that I mean, no injections, no facelifts, etc. And I can't afford them, so it's likely this is how I'll stay.
But I am now dealing with physical threats and harassment due to my age and the fact that I do, indeed, look old. (I'm in my 60s.) In one case, at the gas station, a man who was significantly bigger than I was followed me in and sort of stood over me, telling me I'd better watch out and that he'd make me pay. (Being old & white automatically means you voted for Trump. Being lesbian and having been young in NYC means I definitely did not, but there's no way to explain that when someone wants to kill you or at the least beat you up.)
I wonder if I got botox or a lift if it would make me look like I was in my 50s instead of my 60s and these people (it happens frequently) would leave me alone. So yup, bullying.
FWIW, I don't care much if I look old. I'm fine with it. But I'd like not to get beaten up or killed, if at all possible.
This take resonates me. I got Botox for the first time in 2023 because I was sick of looking in the mirror and seeing the trauma of 2020-2022 carved in worry lines on my forehead. I was getting married (for the first time at 37 years old) and wanted to focus on the future, and it was a small way I felt like I could reclaim some of the youth that had been taken from me by circumstances and people outside my control. Someday I'll wean off; I have nothing against beautiful aging. But it was a big step in healing for me.