Not because I wanted to look like someone else. But because I was tired. Tired of looking at my crow's feet every morning. Tired of looking at group photos and seeing someone who looked like my mother. Tired of spending money on creams that promised everything and changed nothing.
The appointment was set for January 14th. €450. Part of me was relieved—finally a real solution. Another part of me felt defeated.
Then, ten days before, a friend passed me something. Not a cream. Not a serum. A stick. Small. Compact. It almost looked like a lipstick.
"Try it for a week," she told me. "Then tell me."
I cancelled the appointment three days later.