I’m getting my first Botox shots next week, which is basically a feminist tradition for white women who don’t have children. I’m very excited. I’ve decided not to age gracefully because fuck it, I’m an American, if I want to dip my face into chemicals and fossilize it for a century or so, I’m going to do it. I’m past my teenage anti-consumerist misgivings and have fully succumbed to the materialism of America. I’m here, it’s who I am, it’s my culture, and I’m embracing it. And by “my culture” what I mean is: having left the toxic wasteland of diet culture, I’m ready for a new toxic wasteland that defines and punishes femininity: anti-aging dysmorphia. (Actually, I’m still hanging out in the toxic wasteland of diet culture, I guess I’ve just wandered into overlapping territory.) Part of me wishes I were strong enough to go all crunchy hippie with the skin on my face for the rest of my life, but I’m not a person who has moral convictions or shit like that. Mostly, I’m just cheap, so that’s my north star for making decisions about my own consumerism.
That being said, I’ve also noticed that my jaw is too big for my face. I’m a bruxer, so I’m not sure if this is a recent development, or if all the time I’ve spent fretting over my face in the mirror has caused me to hone in on other issues I hadn’t noticed before. This, of course, has inspired to me lose my shit over the possibility of getting plastic surgery to shave my jaw down – although, as a married woman, I realize that maybe the time for this has passed. That being said, it occurred to me that trans women get their jaws shaved down all the time! My jaw makes me feel like less of a woman, therefore should I be justified in getting my jaw shaved down? Of course, I realize that there’s a difference between gender dysmorphia and not liking one’s own face, but, honestly, I’m not exactly sure how to articulate where that line is. I’m happy for all the women, cis and trans, who are getting plastic surgery (happier for the trans women, though). However, yes, I am quite jealous of everyone who’s getting plastic surgery. I’m not quite sure what to do with this jealousy – should I rage against it and rail against unattainable beauty standards? Or should I succumb to the circus and get knifed the fuck up? I’ll probably do neither because, at the end of the day, I am too lazy to rage and too cheap to get knifed up.
Although, it’s worth mentioning that as a married woman I am now entertaining the idea of procreation. (Seriously entertaining it, not just threatening it.) The idea of blowing out my belly, tits and pussy sounds terrible, so I’ve let my husband know that I expect $10k of plastic surgery at the very least. Honestly, probably more like $20k. But one step at a time.
I love being a woman, but, my god, I also fucking hate it.