Chatting away with my daughter, Shannon, then 31, I waited for her eyes to roll in that same old unimpressed way I’d got used to. And sure enough, as soon as I mentioned my upcoming appointment at the beautician she sighed.
‘Not again mum,’ she groaned.
It was always the same, the minute I brought up Botox or spoke to her about the other procedures I’d like to have to keep myself looking young and feeling good.
‘You don’t need to put that in your face,’ she said now as we made our way into London for dinner and drinks.
‘See how you feel when you’re my age,’ I retorted, scanning my face in my little pocket mirror.
It was the summer of 2017 and I’d been having regular Botox injections for five years, around my eyes and forehead. As a hairdresser, I was constantly in front of a mirror and it was important to me to look good and feel confident.
Despite being in my 50s, I still felt young and full of energy, playing badminton regularly and going on daily walks with my cocker spaniel, Stanley, so I wanted to look as young as I felt.
But Shannon and my husband, Rick, then 51, were wary of my little nips and tucks and whenever I mentioned having surgery to fix more of my problem areas, they begged me not to.
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Issue 6 2020