Lasers, Botox, and the Kind of Role Model I Want to Be

Hi friends, I turn 45 this year, and honestly, I'm feeling the passage of time pretty clearly right now. More gray hair, more wrinkles, a body and skin that are changing. I don't bounce back from nights with little sleep the way I did ten years ago (and yes, my three-year-old is just a terrible sleeper, and it's driving me nuts).

When I open Instagram, I get hit with a flood of self-optimization content and ideas for how to live up to beauty standards. 10,000 steps and a high-protein diet are the harmless end of it. It feels like everyone in my feed is spending a fortune on CO2 lasers, hydrofacials, Botox, vibration plates, and microneedling. “Get 1 percent better every day,” they say, and there are a thousand longevity routines…

The other day I called Lisa and whined about how bad I look, how pale and sallow and wrinkly I am, and how I just don't like what I see in the mirror right now. “Maybe I need CO2 lasers and the whole package, too,” I said, wrapping up my little aria of complaints. Lisa's answer: “That's ridiculous! You need some sun on your face, a full night's sleep, and less stress.”

When I think about my grandma, for example, I know for a fact that she never went in for microneedling. She went to the hairdresser regularly (important!) and maybe saw an esthetician every six months. She ate well and walked outside every day. She also kept up her exercise routine well into old age, and I thought she aged beautifully.

Today's beauty ideals…

These days I often miss having role models like that. Now it's 50-year-olds who look 30, with barely any wrinkles, no pores, no aging at all. And I'll be honest: it gets to me, and I'm not immune to it either.

But now I have a 15-year-old daughter, and as we all know, looks matter a whole lot at that age. So I keep asking myself: What kind of role model do I want to be for my daughter, and really, for all of my kids?

My grandma and my mom were and are two very beautiful women who always took good care of themselves. They were and are well put together, and food mattered, and so did moving their bodies. They also enjoyed a glass of wine in good company, knew how to enjoy a meal, and never weighed their food. They'd grumble about gray hair now and then, but they would never have had cosmetic surgery. And in general, looks just weren't that big a topic in our house.

Maybe that's the secret: not putting too much weight on looks. Making it clear to our kids, again and again, that appearance is only one part of who they are. That they shouldn't define themselves by it, and that outward things don't determine their worth.

The other night at dinner we were goofing around about who the strongest person in our family is. I flexed my biceps, which are pretty toned from carrying lots of kids over the years. “I have such a strong mommy!” my three-year-old cheered. Maybe the best thing we can do is teach our kids that strong, healthy, soft, and grateful are far more beautiful words for our bodies than thin and smooth.

How do you handle this at home? How do you talk with your older kids about self-optimization and the pressure to look a certain way? I'd love to hear your stories!