Plastic Surgery.... Can We Talk?Rene Syler
So we were having an electronic girl’s (and boy’s) night out here on Babble.com recently and the topic turned to plastic surgery; would you do it, have you done it, would you talk about it, why or why not? It was prompted by the decision by The Daily Shot’s Ali Wentworth who, after many years, has decided to go under the knife for the bags under her eyes.
I have just three words for her. “You GO Girl!”
That’s right, I said it and I speak from a place of authority as I had the same surgery about a decade ago. For the record, it was the best five-grand I ever spent.
Like Ali, I was very puffy under my eyes, a condition exacerbated by the ungodly hours I kept as a morning news anchor. By the time I was 39, they were really pretty bad and I knew I was going to have to do something about them. Here’s a picture of me then, with copious amounts of airbrushing.
By that time, I had secured my big time anchor gig but was commuting from New York to Dallas weekly until I could relocate my family. So, on one of those trips back home I took a few extra days off, flying home on a Wednesday instead of Friday. The following morning, I was on the table for my upper and lower Blepharoplasty, the official term for an eye job.
To answer some of Ali’s questions: I was puffy for a few days but actually the pain was minimal but the freakiest part was the stitches in my upper lids. They didn’t bother me so much but I’m sure my lunch companions thought they were dining with Raggedy Ann. Oh, and the results were amazing!
I flew back to New York and back to work, my coworkers were in awe. “Wow, you look so rested! That must have been one heck of a vacation.” I had already made the decision that I was not going to lie; that takes too much energy and I was trying to conserve all I had. So I fessed up. ” I had an eye job.”
It was the same thing I blurted out to those who wondered if I was parting my hair on the other side (before the curls) or if I’d lost weight, or found some new eye shadow.
But, and here’s the rub, would I do it again? I don’t think so. Ten years later, I’m a different person; heck outside of penciling in my thinning, graying eyebrows, I really don’t even wear make-up anymore. I’m like one of those women who has a high profile make over, only mine is in reverse.
Does that mean I’ve become more comfortable with the time and space with which I find myself, satisfied with the subtly sagging skin I’m in? Or have I read too much about the surgical side effects? Truthfully, I guess it’s a little bit of both. Then there’s the issue of the message I’m sending to my teen daughter. Am I telling her by changing these little things about me, that I somehow love myself less?
I don’t think so. I want her to feel comfortable doing what she wants to do, whatever makes her happy when she’s old enough to make those decisions (and pay for them), even if that means coloring her hair (but please, don’t straighten it!), injecting her forehead (but please wait until you need it) or something more involved.
Okay, your turn.. would you or wouldn’t you have plastic surgery? If you did, would you tell anyone or keep it a secret? Why or why not?
Yo! Nice to meet you! You can find out more about me on my blog, Good Enough Mother.