Plastic Surgery: Before and After

I turned 13 in 2002. Where teenagers in the past could ignore their imperfections or develop an eating disorder, my generation came to age in an era where plastic surgery was a very real, obtainable possibility. A friend of mine's mother, who would never admit it, has a nose significantly smaller than in her wedding pictures. Our favorite starlets were getting breat augmentations constantly. And the internet filled in any gaps we wanted to know about.

"You know, I read on the internet that liposuction is 7000 bucks," one chubby little girl would tell another behind the gym bleachers skipping gym (in no way are these two chubby little girls supposed to represent me and Cherish).

"You know, I read on the internet a nose job usually averages about 5000 bucks," I said to my boyfriend, the other night in his car, as I examined my nose in his rearview mirror. "I just want it thinned out a little bit; it's so big. It's huge. And fat and squishy. I want a pointy thin ski jump nose. And I can come up with that in about a year. Which means I can get it done by the time I'm 23 if I really try to save."

My boyfriend rolled his eyes.

"And my lips are so ficken thin!" I complained. "Lip injections are around 500 dollars, which would be one pay check. But I don't know if I want collagen or restylane. Just to make them fuller and more attractive."

"Shouldn't you be happy with your body?" he asked wryly.

"Exactly," I said, confused. "People should be free to do whatever they have to in order to be happy with their bodies."

"No," he said. "You don't get it. I love your body."

"So? I'm not doing this for you. I want to do this for me!"

After a look of frustration and disgust, he finally looked at me and deadpanned, "Do you know what we could spend 5500 dollars on instead? That could be a deposit on a brand new car, or that condo you want for us so bad."

I must admit, he has a damn good point.

Unfortunately, my nose may not.