You know that little voice in your head that says “you probably shouldn’t talk about that” Well I don’t have one of those. I am a firm believer that sharing experiences can be helpful to others. No matter how uncomfortable or taboo the subject, I’m in. Thank goodness I have friends with the same mentality. I can’t imagine not having people to talk about orgasms, constipation, bladder incontinence, random nipple hair and everything in between with.
Valentine’s Day is this Sunday. Now traditionally gifts of flowers and chocolate are exchanged. I decided that this year I wanted Botox. Yes, Botox. Not because I don’t think I’m pretty, or have low self esteem. I probably could be knocked down a few notches daily. I wanted it because years of scowling have made a hell of a trench in my forehead. My eyelids also need to be lifted. I have a consult for surgery in March but thought perhaps a bit of Botox could buy me some time.
My husband thinks I’m perfect. Over the last 20 years I’ve had several bad hair cuts, hair colors, and fluctuated up down with weight. No matter what stage I was in, he has always thought I’m perfect. When I told him I wanted Botox he didn’t laugh, call me crazy, or even ask about the cost. He literally said, “Honey, if it’s what you want and it makes you happy, then do it.” He is well aware that a happy, confident wife, benefits him in more what’s than one.
Now I’m a bit high maintenance. I mean that in the best way possible. However I am new to this level of care. I had no idea what to expect. As I drove to the Bengston Center this morning I was a bit nervous. I’m not a baby, but the thought of injections in my face was a bit off putting.
As soon as I walked in I instantly felt out of my league. It was a site out of a magazine. Everything was glamorous and over the top perfect. I tried to not look overwhelmed. I had a confident saunter as I made my way to an over sized chair. I snuck a picture to text to Chuck. I even took one in the bathroom. I was worse than an over zealous summer vacationer. If Boujee had a picture this was it.
So I’m sitting there and happen to over hear a woman checking out. Now I was not eavesdropping but they weren’t being quiet. She was taking advantage of a special they were running. Buy 2 syringes get one free. My interest was peeked. I love a good deal. Then I heard her say the price. Let’s just say 1,400 for me is not a deal. Now I was nervous. I have no idea how much Botox costs. I did see it on Groupon, but my gut said bad idea. Now I’m second guessing.
This lovely woman with a tailored white jacket came out to get me. Classy as expected, and very sweet. We chat about my goals and what I’d ideally like to achieve. She suggested that we start conservative since I’ve never had it before. She starts marking my face and tell me that she’s going to do 44 units. She excuses herself to go draw that up. I’m imagining her rolling in a cart with 44 syringes and me being a human pin cushion. Nope, she comes in with about 4 syringes and gets to work. Now honestly I think that for the most part getting my eye brows threaded hurts worse. There were maybe 3 times that made my eyes water.
So now I have to sit and wait. Apparently 3-5 days to start seeing results. I go back in 2 weeks for a follow up to see how it’s going. I’m not a Beverly Hills housewife, I’m just a 42 year old woman who is gonna hold onto what she’s got for as long as possible.
So for Valentine’s Day I got Botox, and he got Scotch, Gin and somethings I just shouldn’t share.