It feels like everyone around me is talking about Botox. Cosmetic procedures seem to be happening younger, more often, and more casually than ever before. A few years ago, Botox might have been reserved for celebrities or the ultra-rich. Now it’s just as likely to show up in your group chat, your Instagram feed, or on reality shows like Love Island, where every season seems more filler-filled than the last.
In many ways, it’s become a flashpoint in feminist discourse. On one side: tired, misogynistic narratives about “natural beauty,” where men (and the women who choose to align with them) romanticize a version of “effortlessness” that somehow still aligns perfectly with mainstream beauty ideals. On the other: empowerment discourse that celebrates Botox as a personal choice—a way to feel confident, polished, in control.
But what gets left out of these debates is the wider system we’re navigating. A truly feminist response shouldn’t villainize individuals for engaging with beauty culture—but neither should it celebrate procedures like Botox without critique. While feminism is in many ways about women having more choices, that doesn’t mean that in our patriarchal world, any choice a woman makes is a feminist one. These choices don’t exist in a vacuum. Whether it’s skincare, hair extensions, makeup, or cosmetic injections, our beauty decisions are shaped by systems of power: white supremacy, racial capitalism, anti-fatness, and ableism all influence which features are seen as “beautiful” and whose bodies are considered desirable.
For me, opting out of Botox and other cosmetic procedures isn’t about vilifying those who choose partake. It’s about choosing to question what I’ve been taught to want, and whether that desire is really mine. So, in the spirit of reflection—not judgment—here are eight reasons why I’m not getting Botox right now (and maybe never):
1. Nothing feels more beautiful to me than looking like the women in my lineage before me.
So many women I admire and have looked up to in my life have wrinkles. Lines that tell their story and show their wisdom. I consider it an absolute honor and privilege to be able to look like them one day. Not only do I feel like looking like my mother and my grandmother is a way to honor and embrace who I am and where I come from, but I have also always seen them as beautiful inside and out—and only glowing more and looking more like themselves with age. I cherish all the similarities I get to share with all the incredible women who came before me.
2. I’m learning that the things that make me different are the things that make me unique and beautiful.
As I grow older, I’ve started embracing the things I once tried to hide—like being bilingual, multicultural, and having what my family lovingly calls our “Soles nose.” For years, I straightened my curly hair, believing that blending in meant being beautiful. But now I understand that the desire to “blend in” is something I was taught. We've been conditioned to value sameness—to see Eurocentric features as the default, and to see anything else as something to be fixed, hidden, or "toned down." That conditioning isn’t neutral; it’s rooted in white supremacy and a beauty industry that profits off of racialized insecurity. Leaning into my natural features, into the fullness of my identity, makes me feel a sense of power and confidence—a big FU to the systems that keep us forever chasing unattainable beauty standards.
3. I’m not willing to gamble on my health and safety.
To put it plain and simple: we don’t really know all of the long-term effects Botox might have. It could have none, and in some cases, like a vaccine or other potentially life-saving medication, I would take the risk of not knowing because I feel it’s worth it. But in the case of Botox, I don’t have to get it for my health or safety, so I’d rather not take the gamble. Though we may sometimes forget, Botox is a medical procedure that can go very wrong if not administered properly, resulting in muscle paralysis and even death. This is especially troublesome given the relatively loose regulation in many countries such as Turkey and the UK. It’s also important to remember that, even when administered correctly, there are side effects, including loss of muscle use and ability and migraines. To me? Not worth it.
4. I won’t let capitalism keep me in the drop a bag then work-work-work cycle.
Fitting into society’s expectations for beauty is EXPENSIVE. Women are already spending hundreds if not (let’s be real, more likely) thousands of dollars on beauty products and treatments. We are far outspending men, and that’s not a coincidence. Under capitalism, the beauty industry thrives by manufacturing insecurity and selling us the illusion of self-worth in whatever package helps them profit. The more we buy into the idea that we’re not enough as we are, the easier we become to manipulate. This is how capitalism and patriarchy work hand-in-hand, keeping us distracted, depleted, and doubting ourselves.
Imagine what we could build if we got together and put all that time, energy, and resources into creating real, liberatory change. If you’re not at the level of revolution, that’s okay too; save up that coin to see the world, give to someone in need, or support things that bring you real joy. Spending intentionally and from abundance rather than from scarcity or insecurity always leaves me feeling more full.
5. So that I look surprised when my friends eventually inevitably throw me a surprise party.
I don’t know, I feel like if my eyebrows stop raising, the homies won’t throw me a surprise party because seeing surprise on your friends’ face has got to be the best part. My expressive face is part of how I communicate my feelings and emotions to everyone, from strangers at the bar to my most beloved friends and family. So skipping Botox is really only in my best interest if I hope to get a surprise party anytime soon.
6. I am choosing to actively reject the idea that women need to look young to be beautiful.
The idea that women can’t show signs of aging, that they need to be wrinkle and gray-hair free to look beautiful, centers the male-gaze, and perpetuates ideas rooted in pedophilia. I don’t need to look like I did when I was 15 to be worthy of love, or to shine in my own right. I try to create the world I want to live in, little by little, through my choices. The world I want to live in is one where we respect and love older women, where women aren’t seen as disposable after a certain age. A world where a 50 year old woman is seen as just as sexy as a George Clooney or a Tom Cruz, and where women don’t need to spend their adult lives fearing the natural signs of aging that accompany each year. That world cannot be built while Botox and fillers, which treat wrinkles as a problem to be solved, are the norm.
7. I want to model what made me feel good when it was modeled to me.
Remember that scene in Mean Girls where each girl takes a turn naming something she doesn’t like about her appearance, before they all turn to the last girl and wait for her to choose or create an insecurity to share? In our society, it’s all too common for women and girls to pick at their appearances outwardly and amongst each other, together creating and reinforcing negative self-talk.
I want to envision a scene where girlhood is rooted in celebration of one another, rather than insecurity. Peer-influence goes both ways—it can be negative (à la Mean Girls) or it can be positive. I feel the least self-conscious, and the best about myself, when I’m surrounded by friends who model what that looks and sounds like through the way they act and view themselves. I want my radical self-love and acceptance to be contagious to everyone in my community, from my friends as we get ready together to the little girls I might encounter. I want to model a beauty and a confidence that doesn’t require changing anything about my outward appearance, to offer women of all ages an alternative to the insecurities that are packaged and sold to us. And while that can feel like a tall ask, I set out towards this goal one step at a time.
8. I really want silver hair, wrinkles, and everything that comes with aging.
Wrinkles are cool. I see them how I see scars: as a map, a chart, a story of my life adventures and history, which I for sure want to document in as many ways as I can. AND I’m SO excited for my silver hair and elder glow. I dream about having long silver hair down my back and maybe I’m on a horse at an age when people will say “that’s too dangerous for someone your age!” And I will smile as I flip my silver hair and ride away. Aging is so vintage and cool.
So yeah, I always leave space for growth and change but for now, this is where I’m at: trying to make choices that feel aligned with my values, questioning the systems that shape our desires, and learning to appreciate the face I’ve grown into, with curiosity and care.
BTDubs, if you want to get Botox—go for it! Ultimately, it is a personal choice that you are totally in your right to make, in line with what is right for you. We all make our personal investments in beauty culture, even when we know these investments might feed into larger systems we don’t support. I’m not here to shame those of you who make a different choice than me—I’m just sharing my truth. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that there’s nothing more beautiful than living in your truth, so I wholeheartedly encourage you to do what makes you feel most beautiful and true.
XOXO
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