I’ve seen so many who have gone under the knife for the chance at a better life that I’ve come to the conclusion that it just wasn’t worth it. I’m 54, so I can see the effects of time on my face and body, but it doesn’t stop me from being creative, writing, or loving. All three give my life invaluable value and meaning.

Every time I nurse a friend through the experience, she’s had a dark side. The pain, swelling, bruising, medication, and “time off” from life’s activities was a lot to deal with. But almost every time, during the healing process, the recipient lamented having to surgically alter their body in order to feel contentment or acceptance of their world.

Liposuction has caused depression in everyone I know who has gone through it. I have always believed that the body grieves the loss of a part of itself, even fat. Impossible weight and numbers have become an epidemic in our society that continues to this day.

Here in Nacogdoches (the oldest city in Texas), I’ve enjoyed seeing the women of town when I go get supplies that age naturally. It’s not offensive. It’s life on life’s terms, literally. It softens the features. Plastic surgery completely changes the contours.

There are many times when it felt like changing someone surgically was a blessing. Protruding ears look clownish and almost impossible to cover. I know two men who have done this with great results. They looked normal, and they didn’t get better.

At 54, I can see where Botox is going in my face. I’ve also seen why women have collagen in their lips and “eye work.” But I am not offended by the progress of my face. My age does not bother me. And my world is flourishing and opening up more every day. I am in love with my life, so improving my physical appearance will not increase my experience.

Obsession with self-image is like a disease. It distorts a person’s view of the world into a very small version by focusing on something small like lips or a bulge here or there. Thousands of dollars are spent by removing lines or blowing small areas. Most of the women I know who have undergone antiaging treatments are not happier or calmer afterward. Most of them tend to shift their focus to a different area for change.

Weight is a whole discussion but California is at a high threat level. Employment opportunities, social participation, and public/private recognition become limited as body weight increases. It’s not pretty, but I’ve noticed it recur many times during my 25 years on the West Coast.

Texas women may have room for improvement. Californians can back away from focusing on externalities more. A combination of both worlds can be great. One should be proud of one’s personal appearance but not obsessed with it. Going into town in ill-fitting, stained, raggedy clothes and house slippers with hair bundled and clipped at the top is a tiring sight here in Deep East Texas. Octoginists with big, perky boobs and narrow faces with oddly raised hairlines are equally uninspiring.

It’s all about balance. It always has been. always will be.