Midlife and cosmetics: the Botox dilemma continued (part 3)

Part 1Midlife and cosmetics: skin care and eyebrow shaping (part 1)

Part 2Midlife and cosmetics: the Botox dilemma (part 2)

Last two paragraphs of part 2, the Botox dilemma:

… .After Eva my beautician dropped the Botox word, I left and didn’t give it much thought over the next few years. I had no extra disposable income to consider such frivolity anyway, and I wasn’t particularly interested in marketing myself to others. At the time I was a stay at home mom with kids in competitive sports requiring a lot of bundling up (I spent/spend a lot of time in cold rinks); cosmetics in general didn’t really play a very big part in my life. I’m a less is more kinda gal: foundation, maybe powder, eyeliner and mascara. And Shea butter as moisturizer.

But that pesky wrinkle/scar between my brows continued to disturb me. What’s more, Eva moved away and I was unsuccessful in replacing her talents elsewhere. The two other salons I went to didn’t do a very good job, so I bought better tweezers and some depilatory creams and shaped my brows in front of the bathroom mirror myself.

The scar however continued to mock me.

Part 3

The scar between my brows not only continued to mock me, it began to affect my self-image.

This rattled me. I’ve never considered myself a vain person, why am I accepting vanity now?

I struggled with this question and wondered if aging affected me more than I cared to admit. Did I miss out on too many positive social opportunities in my youth? Why the sudden zooming in on self-perceived flaws?

I went back to other moments in time since I turned 50 where I struggled with the physical changes of aging. I went through some phases, documented some, even published a few (most recently here and here).

I realized something; other readers (and writers on the internet) struggle with similar issues. I am not alone. Although the vanity-induced self-esteem comes and goes, I am much less insecure now than I was during my 40s, which I partly credit to pushing comfort zones and writing, sharing my stories here and on my Medium account.

Turning 50 was a the pivotal Tower Moment for me (although it was not a term I was familiar with at the time).

Taking matters into my hands I tackled things head-on:

I changed my hair, continued to shaped my eyebrows, reduced white carbs and sugar from my diet, supplemented with zinc, vitamin C and D and a probiotic to improve immunity, began yoga exercises with focus on strength and fitness, and wrote my heart out.

Just prior to my 53rd birthday I recognized I needed to take one more giant step to activate the next part of my journey. Simultaneously, my mom had an accident requiring care-giving which I was able to provide, thereby solidifying my move out of the family home.

All this was a form of therapy for me. Living in the burbs has improved both my mental and emotional health significantly which ended up making me a much better parent to my teens. And, because I took care of my health from within first, my exterior health improved as well. Which somehow affected me tangibly when I looked in the mirror.

I suddenly saw myself as reasonably attractive. I liked myself. I did not feel invisible anymore.

But a smidgen of vanity remained. This wrinkle in between my brows continued to bother me.

The Botox people have a name for this: glabellar lines.

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