For the past five or so years my mom would come to my house, play with the grandkids, and make small comments here and there admonishing the way she looked. Sometimes she didn’t like the texture of her skin, sometimes she didn’t like the hyperpigmentation popping up on her once porcelain face, and sometimes the grooves and wrinkles just got her annoyed. It was frustrating to see and hear. No one wants to see their own mother, only 66 years old, feeling less than but also I knew she was inching closer and closer to the point of getting a facelift. I have no judgment for facelifts, in fact, I know several people who look and feel better for them— I just didn’t love the idea of my mom being under a knife she didn’t need. But my mom is and was beautiful, and I knew she just wanted a little pick me up. I also knew there were better options.
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