Cosmetic Surgery: Self-love or Self-delusion?
By Joy Davidson
Q: I’d like to have facial cosmetic surgery, but I’m so anxious about it I keep making and breaking appointments with a surgeon. I don’t know why I’m so jittery. It’s just skin … I know I should either do it or stop toying with the idea. It’s no big deal . . . right?
J.D.: Actually, wrong. Cosmetic procedures may be designed to change your outer layer, but they still have impact – for better or worse – on your inner layer. Those who like the results usually walk away from the procedures feeling better about themselves – more confident, more attractive, even in better control of their lives. Others who expect improved appearances to miraculously change them on the inside are sometimes disappointed when no abracadabra ensues. Some of these people undergo procedure after procedure in pursuit of an elusive reward. So before taking the plunge, be sure to ask yourself what it is you’re really after, because tighter skin won’t hike up a sagging life, appease a critical partner, or suture a straying one closer.
If you think you’ll be content with improvement, not perfection, the following anxiety-reducing tips should help:
• Consider one or two less invasive procedures before you opt for major surgery. If you’ve never had anything done, try a laser or injectable process before you confront the scalpel. How you handle such a preliminary and how you feel afterward may inform your next step.
• Consult with more than one board-certified physician in various specialties. An aesthetic dermatologist, for example, may offer options that your plastic surgeon doesn’t, and vice versa.
• Ask your doctor how many of the procedures you’re considering he or she has done. This is key, especially if it’s a fairly new technique. Anxiety is often proportional to a practitioner’s expertise. Bottom line: Don’t be a “practice patient,” even at a discount price.
• Study the risks of the procedure(s) you’re considering. Make sure you have a support system in place to deal with potential complications of surgery and healing.
• Explore Internet sites and discussion boards offering patient-to-patient dialogue. Everyone’s experience is different, but others’ stories will provide a wider perspective.
Many women (and some men) report that the discomfort of their cosmetic procedure was greater than they were expecting, and certainly more difficult than it looks on TV. Be prepared, and allow for ample recuperation time. Trying to hurry your healing can trigger a whole new set of complications. Remember that cosmetic surgery involves a physical trauma just as with any medically necessary operation, and should be undertaken with equal seriousness.
Q: I am 58 years old and divorced from my second husband for the past five years. I have been dating a man who is 12 years younger than me. He thinks I’m 48, which, thanks to various cosmetic procedures, is even older than most people take me for. The problem is that I’m beginning to feel awful about lying. First there’s the stress of mentally reconfiguring my whole life story and trying not to slip up. Then there’s the fact that whenever I have something “done” – like restylane injections – I hide from him for a few days until the swelling goes down. I want him to think I look good “naturally.” I feel silly about all this, but am so afraid that if I tell him the truth he will see me differently and eventually leave me. He’s the best thing that has happened to me since my divorce, and I don’t want to ruin this relationship. Advice?
The process I call (tongue in cheek) “youthenasia” is becoming ubiquitous among women and men alike, especially in large urban centers. Whether it’s hair restoration or restalyne (dermal filler), men are no strangers to the world of tweaking and tightening. So the fact that you inject a little filler now and again does not seem like a thing that should or would send him packing. I suspect that your disappearing act is more complex than wanting to be considered “au naturale.”
Despite the prevalence of cosmetic enhancements, we all understand that the pursuit of timeless attractiveness amounts to chasing an illusion, perpetuating a lie. And it is for this reason that much of the upkeep is becoming a “secret vice.” Instead of saying proudly, I’m 60 and fabulous, women and men are now claiming the age they pay thousands to be seen as – as if that could turn back the clock.
Sustaining the illusion can become identity defining. Imagine: If nobody but your aesthetic dermatologist knows for sure (and you probably lie about your age even to her), then in some respects, neither do you. By keeping the truth from your younger lover, you are essentially keeping it from yourself as well.
Actually, there is something to be said for this effort at magical misdirection. Knocking five or ten years off your age-perception could affect the way you dance with life. If the mind-body connection is as powerful as some proponents suggest it is, then believing you are young and energetic might actually make you young and energetic. Voila! Conversely, believing that you are “old” might instruct your cells to break down, thereby demonstrating your advanced age.
The downside of this mind-over-matter approach is that it doesn’t work entirely or forever. When aches and illnesses set in, you begin to feel that your body has betrayed you simply by doing what comes naturally: Aging. Your illusions shatter, and you are left to grapple with questions like the one you’ve ultimately asked here: Should I tell my boyfriend the truth about who I am? The fundamental answer is Yes, but only if you are first willing to tell yourself.
How can you believe in his ability to accept what you can’t? It matters not whether his reaction is “Be gone, old bitch” or “Honey, I don’t care if you’re 100,” if you can’t be okay with all that you are. Acceptance must include the fact that you’re a stunning mature woman who is both insecure about aging and fortunate enough to have the resources to maintain yourself cosmetically. That’s the bald reality. Can you live with it? If not, that is likely to create more relationship wrinkles than your actual age or swollen nasolabial folds.
Once you reconcile your internal dilemma, then decide what to do about the man. The truth will be especially important if he is becoming someone you love. If you see a future with him, you need to feel he knows you in every way; that he understands and respects your strengths, insecurities, fears, and inconsistencies. If, on the other hand, you do not see this relationship as a long-term prospect, it doesn’t matter what you tell him. See, the issue is not about whether it’s “right” or “wrong” to lie about your age; it’s about whether or not you can take him seriously enough to trust. If he is a worthy partner he will be the one to say: “Sweetie, let me bring you an ice pack,” when you’re fresh off the front lines of scalpels and syringes.
Q: I recently had a facelift but haven’t told anyone in my family because they disapprove of that sort of thing. Now I will be seeing all of them at my sister’s house over the holidays. I dread the thought of someone asking me a probing question, or making an unkind remark about the fact I look different. It occurred to me that it might be easier not to go at all, but I do want to see my family. My husband thinks I look great and will back me up 100 percent, but I cringe at the thought of being the center of that kind of attention. What can I do to get more comfortable?
I have a friend who once upon a time had very small (A-cup) breasts. When she was in her late 30s she decided to have them augmented to a C. In her 40s she met a man with whom she has now been in a relationship for 10 years. She has never told him that her perky C’s are not entirely her own. Would he care? Not a whit. So why not come clean? After 10 years, she says, it would be “weird” to tell him. Maybe he’d wonder what else she had failed to mention. I suspect the real reason has little to do with my friend’s boyfriend and much to do with the shame that so many of us women feel about our bodies when they don’t measure up to a ubiquitous aesthetic ideal – whether culturally or privately imposed.
Women carry so many shames: Body-hatred, being “fake,” admitting vanity, buying into Hollywood glamour, corporate greed, and sexism, being aware of the shallowness of striving for beauty and succumbing to it anyway.
Of course not all women give in to these cravings for perfection. Some actually escape the urges, many deny them, others choose not to indulge them, and some go so far as to resent and actually judge women who demonstrate their commitment to aesthetic flawlessness by going under the knife, coloring their gray, or enhancing their lips. Purveyors of such criticism, many of whom believe themselves to be “above” vanity and superficiality, often hold (and enjoy) the power of intimidation over those who associate shame or guilt with their decisions to undergo plastic surgery.
Your holiday dilemma is actually a great opportunity to choose between living in shame or striding boldly forward with confidence and conviction. Now that you’ve had your face lifted, are you ready to hold your head up high?
Here’s my advice: Expect folks to notice the change, and expect to field a question or two. At your sister’s front door, stomp off your shame like the slush on your shoes. Raise your newly taut chin up, up, up! And when people tell you that you look wonderful, say a simple “Thank you,” before offering a genuine return compliment. If anyone actually has the guts to ask if you had something “done,” look at them like they’re a little batty to even address the issue. Say: “Well, of course! How very nice of you to notice!” Then change the subject. If someone expresses a negative attitude, ignore the comment entirely. You don’t need to defend your decision any more than you need to hide it.
Getting comfortable with your new role as the Jean d’Arc of plastic surgery might take some practice. So before the party, ask your wonderfully supportive husband to role-play these conversations with you. That way you can repeat your lines until they slide off your tongue with ease.
