Gaby Roslin: Why I booked Botox then cancelled
It's funny how often Botox and fillers come up in conversation. Many journalists have asked my opinion, probably trying to find out whether or not I've succumbed. My friends all gossip about it, and make-up artists always have a story about someone or other's face. Eventually, I thought "Why not?" A well-known person gave me the number of the best (they thought) man to see, saying that he was very discreet. I rang and made the appointment for a week later - then told everyone. But then I changed my mind.
"What do you mean you want to cancel?" asked the receptionist. She questioned me further and, when I couldn't bear the inquisition any longer, I told her. It was not because of an aversion to needles or fear of doing it that made me cancel. "I don't want to have poison injected into my head," I said, more firmly than I had anticipated.
I look in the mirror and, yes, I'm definitely creasing all over, especially under my eyes. But I am 44 years old.
I lost my mother to cancer 12 years ago. My father has battled cancer, superbugs and strokes. I am divorced. I have two daughters. I'm in a fantastic relationship. I have wonderful friends who I've been in both hysterically funny and unbearably sad situations with. Very sadly, I have friends who have died and friends who are dying. In other words, I have lived.
I have laughed uncontrollably. I cry quite openly. I have wrinkles. I have expression in my face. I wouldn't want to change a thing, apart from wishing that my mother and other family members and friends were still here. I probably wish I hadn't been so self-conscious growing up, and learnt to appreciate what I had far earlier, but otherwise I have lived. Why do people think that an injection will take away all of that?
In my business, there are a lot of women (and some men) who fight desperately to look young. TV and film is cruel. If you look old, especially as a woman, it's harder to get work. I'm delighted to say that it hasn't stopped me and I won't let it, either. It's not just in the media that Botox has taken over. Women around the country who can afford it are queuing up for Botox. But why are you so ashamed of looking your age?
I have a wonderful friend who is 39 and has a terminal brain tumour. She is so angered about people putting poison into their faces out of choice when she didn't choose to have the cancerous poison that's slowly killing her in her head. She wishes people would celebrate growing older, as that is something she will never do.
We went shopping for her new wig recently and ended up giggling a huge amount, especially when she tried on the "Dolly Parton"-style wig, but there was sadness about the day too. She didn't want to lose her hair again after chemo, and this time she knew what was coming. She was livid about the fact that, in the store we were in, so many women seemed so unhappy with their looks that they'd gone down the air-tunnel route (her words, not mine).
I know there are certain cases where a few injections are all people need to make them feel a million dollars, and I'm not telling anyone not to do it. I have many friends who have had it and - to be honest - look bloody great!
All I'm saying is that if you're anything like me and you're considering it, why not embrace those expression lines and celebrate the fact that we're here and, yes, we're getting older. If that fails, there are loads of great creams around.
Get yourself a fringe - it's the haircut to have, apparently. Go outside and get some exercise. Walk whenever you can. Drink water.
Or you can always do as I do and sit pulling back the skin around your face, and remember when you didn't really appreciate those youthful looks. (Actually, those were the times that probably put those lines on my face - the very late nights, the smoking and drinking, and the carefree student days, which I wouldn't change - or go back to, for that matter - for anything.)
Now, about my extremely saggy tummy after two kids...
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