Your support helps us tell the story
From reproductive rights to climate change to big tech, The Independent is on the ground when the story is developing. Whether it’s investigating the finances of Elon Musk’s pro-Trump PAC or producing our latest documentary, ‘The A Word,’ which shines a light on American women fighting for reproductive rights, we know the importance of analyzing the facts of messaging. .
At such a critical moment in American history, we need reporters on the ground. Your donation allows us to continue sending journalists to tell both sides of the story.
The Independent is trusted by Americans across the political spectrum. And unlike many other quality news outlets, we choose not to block Americans from our reporting and analysis with a paywall. We believe that quality journalism should be available to everyone, and paid for by those who can afford it.
Your support makes a difference.
Ssince i turned 30 earlier this year, the only thing i want to talk about with my friends is theirs skin care regimen. OK, I still want to talk to them about sex, dating, and horoscopes. But the most pressing topic on the table at cocktail hour isn’t which Scorpio we’re sleeping with or which Gemini is wooing us. It’s what we do to our faces.
Of course, some of them are Botox (one has been receiving it since the age of 27). Others have had fillers, buccal fat removal, and a few are considering treatments I didn’t even know existed. Eyebrow raising, anyone?
Call me cliché, but I really didn’t think about aging until the big 3-0. I have now developed a dark habit of staring at my face every morning, identifying various flaws and wondering what else I could do to look better. And when I say “better”, that should be clear to me what i mean is “younger”.
Quitting smoking is the first; I only smoke occasionally when I drink alcohol, but quitting smoking completely would be very beneficial. Taking as many supplements as I can get my hands on is another: collagen, biotin and probiotics. I drink Borough bone broth as often as I remember to buy it (it’s loaded with collagen, apparently). And aggressively using gua sha on the jaw line whenever I can.
I spent a lot of money investing in expensive beauty tools that promised to give a youthful appearance. That little electric one that seemingly whips your face into shape? I got it. A ridiculous high-tech laser that’s supposed to regenerate my skin cells and reduce redness? I use it every day for 20 minutes. The infrared mask that everyone and everyone is posting about on Instagram? I’ve been using mine daily for a year now.
I should clarify that I have aversion to botoxand any other tweaks I might invest in. Not that I judge anyone who does. I’m just a little afraid that once I start, I won’t be able to stop. What if suddenly I can’t afford it and my face starts to sag? Or does it go wrong and I end up looking saggy and misshapen? What if I get addicted to plastic surgery and start changing my entire appearance?
I resent how much space I let all this take up. But it really became all-consuming, like a daily self-flagellation session because I’m not in my twenties anymore. This is despite being fully aware that we live in a society that fetishizes youth as a means of oppressing women. We fear aging because we’ve been sold the lie that older women are losing their social and cultural capital, when in reality they’re probably more empowered, confident, and financially independent than they’ve ever been. The ones I know certainly are.
And yet, the conditioning is too deep to shake: I’m single. I’m out a lot. And I want to look good. Like all my friends. Kim Kardashian once famously admitted she would eat human excrement if it would make her look young. If I’m really honest with myself, I think I would too. Maybe not now, but in a few wrinkles, I can see myself resorting to desperate measures to look fresh while avoiding going near needles.
I wish that wasn’t the case. Because aging is not something any of us should fear; it is something we should embrace and celebrate. Getting old is a privilege; it is natural to see signs of it on our faces. Songs of experience write their lyrics all over us and we are happy to witness them. Perhaps the irony is that all of this will only begin to sink in as I get older. Only time will tell.