New year, new me. I dissolved my lip filler!

As with most things in life, I have strong opinions on cosmetic surgery. I’ll pre-face this short ramble with a very certain statement: I am pro ‘getting work done’. Of all types. I don’t subscribe to the narrative that natural beauty is ‘best’, as I don’t prescribe to any narrative which dictates what beauty is or should be. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder and all that, but most importantly, beauty is in the eye of the beholden to the mirror. I also reject the notion that other women’s bodies are my business. If you like it, if it makes you happy and feel fulfilled? THAT’S all I care about. I think that in discussions around gender equality we are moving closer to a collective conscious in which we champion ALL women, in which it is far less acceptable to criticise and put down women for their physical presentation in the world. I learnt very quickly as a teenager that you are truly damned if you do, damned if you don’t. You don’t look pretty enough? Not thin enough? Your body hair is unsightly? You have a crooked nose? Breasts too small? Not the right shape? Well, those judgements are to define your entire worth. You’ll be called names, ridiculed by both your peers and the boys you like, and you’ll learn to hate the wonderful imperfections that make you exactly who you are. Do something about those imperfections? Try to make them a little closer to the perfection you are taught will earn you validation in the world? Fall victim to diet culture? Get that rhinoplasty? Start botox to fight off those little wrinkles you’ve been taught are a sign not of wisdom, but of an ever approaching expiry date? You are ‘perpetuating the patriarchy’, you’re caving in to pressure. You’re vain or you’re attention seeking. You are an ‘unrealistic beauty standard’ who is a ‘bad role model’ for younger girls. Truly, the Womens conundrum in our wonderful yet complex society: damned if you do, damned if you don’t.

So now is where I get personal. If you’ve followed my online presence for some time now, it’s absolutely no secret that I’ve had cosmetic filler. A process of injecting hyal acid into the soft tissue of (usually, but not exclusively) the face, to smooth surfaces or increase volume. Filler has gained enormous popularity in recent years. Its first wave of popularity resulted in some very high profile cases amongst the rich and famous of what came to be known as ‘duck pout’, back when the procedure was in its infancy. Now, you would be hard pressed to find a social media influencer or model or next door neighbour who hasn’t at least dabbled in a little filler, botox or other non-invasive procedure. These procedures have become so sophisticated that they can be near impossible to detect to the untrained eye, and the lack of permanence due to dissolubility of the filler itself is hugely attractive to those who either can’t afford more permanent surgery or are fearful of it. Essentially, a temporary experiment in aesthetics can be topped up for a life time, or it can even be dissolved completely. And this was my story just 7 months ago.

For some years I embraced the ‘done’ look. My lips were overfilled, and I didn’t mind. I loved the look. I still do, frankly. I think that somewhere along the line however, for me (and I must stress empathically here: for me), the overfilling of my lips became a dependence. If you’re anything like me and had insecurities growing up, it’s very easy to slip into the crutch of exercise or makeup or any type of aesthetic tweak to feel confident. And while I believe there is absolutely nothing wrong with confidence boosting tools, I began considering whether or not I could accept myself without the filler. And when I was truly, brutally honest with myself, the answer was no. So, I decided to undertake a test in self acceptance. Maybe it was crazy, but 2020 wasn’t exactly the most sane of years we’ve lived through. So, I scheduled in with a highly recommended doctor, and we dissolved my lip filler. Within two hours after leaving the Kensington aesthetics clinic, my lips were back to their pre-filler selves. And I’ll tell you, it was a shock. I had a cry, stayed inside for a day, and then began the process of confronting the change. We have since refilled several areas in and around my lips, due to soft tissue damage from the overfilling (take this as your word of caution on overzealous filler doctors, kids!). The result has been a much more ‘natural’ look. One which I feel compliments my features rather than dominating them. It feels more me, more Jessa. The people I love didn’t reject me, I wasn’t shunned from society as I had expected and planned for. I was told that in fact, I looked younger precisely because it appeared more natural. I cringe at the use of ‘natural’ as a positive. It’s most often used as a passive aggressive way to pit women against each other, as though natural beauty is categorically and inherently more valuable than surgically aided beauty. I’m no better or more noble than any women who loves and lives the more exaggerated look. What I’ve learnt from my journey with cosmetic filler is that it’s a deeply personal choice. Sometimes our preferences change, sometimes our motivations change. And being open about that is something I’m really comfortable with.

So if you notice something a little different about me, there is! And it’s not just the lockdown hair and nails, which haven’t been touched by professionals for months on end. Hopefully you’ll still think I’m cute, but if I’ve learnt anything from my very long, hard journey in loving myself, it’s that if I think I’m cute, that’s all that matters.