Plastic Surgery

A friend and I noticed, when we were watching Dancing with the Stars, that one of the stars very apparently had plastic surgery. Well, maybe not surgery per se but definitely botox injections. It is obvious in that he, and yes it is a he, has that shiny botox look about his forehead and, even though he is breathing hard at the end of the dance, his forehead doesn’t sweat. His skin looks very tight and unreal.

I guess I don’t fully understand the whole botox thing. I mean, having wrinkles and aging is just a sign that you are getting older and we all get older unless, of course, we die. So if you truly love life, why would you want to remove evidence that you have actually lived life?

It is like the scars I have acquired throughout life. The one on my big toe that looks a little like a centipede. I received that one from when I dropped the pane of glass on my foot when I was ten. Had to have 32 stitches in my toe (the cut went down to the bone) and I have had the scar ever since. Then there is the scar on my right knee from when I crashed my bike when I was a kid and tore my knee open pretty badly in a gravel alleyway (not a good idea to warn me to be careful to not crash when I am in the lead – I promptly turned my head to hear what the person was saying and crashed my bike). Next there is the very, very tiny scar on my forehead from when I had chicken pox. Don’t scratch the red spots!! Lesson learned although it’s mostly a lesson for other people since a person only has chicken pox once in their lives. Finally there are the various cooking scars either from cutting myself or burning myself. Not very obvious except for the inch long quarter inch wide scar on the back of my right hand from touching the rack in the oven when it was 350 degrees. The other burn scars are smaller and less obvious and most of the cut marks are faded to the point that I have to really look to see them.

I don’t mind all the scars I have on my body. I never did any of them deliberately but it does show that I have lived my life and not sat in a room staring at a wall. I also don’t mind the little wrinkles I get by my eyes when I smile. Not blatantly obvious wrinkles but just tiny little laugh lines. Nothing to be concerned about.

So why would you want to mess with the signs that you have lived life? Why would you want poison injected in your body to erase any signs that you are your actual age? After all, the older you get the wiser you get (hopefully). You learn not to let things bother you as much as when you were younger. You learn what makes you happy and what you don’t like. You learn to appreciate the small things in life and don’t worry about things you have no control over.

If you have little wrinkles and small scars as you age then more power to you! It shows you are confident in who you are, you have lived life and you know your place in the world.

Finally I saw a report the other day on TV that said that most people who have plastic surgery eventually regret it. They wish they had never had a surgeon alter their face. They dislike the poofiness of their lips, the tightness of their skin and how fake and, well, plastic they look. Too bad they couldn’t have realized this before the slicing and injections started.