(Day 42/122 of the experiment)
I have been afraid of the word “injection” since childhood. I remember once I got pneumonia (I was really little back then), and my grandmother gave me two injections every day. At that time, it seemed to me the worst procedure in the world. And even now, I still think so. But what can you do – my lips don't satisfy me, so I'm running to the cosmetologist.
I chose a small clinic in the center of the big city, where a qualified doctor works. I read horror stories online about how some girls were given injections by young specialists after two-day courses and that later the clients struggled with health issues for years. So when Lilia recommended Natalia, I immediately asked about her education. And when I was convinced that Natalia had worked for many years as an anesthesiologist, I signed up without any fear.
While we were doing an allergy test for the product, we discussed with the doctor what exactly I wanted and what I didn't like about my own lips. I immediately said that I didn't want lips like Barbie's (and half of the girls on Instagram) because it looks too unnatural and makes the face look like a fish.
When the doctor was sure that my body was reacting normally to the product, she applied anesthetic cream to my mouth. It was such a strange feeling – as if my whole face was going numb. While lying there, I took a couple of selfies on the couch to post them on Instagram.
I was sure the procedure would be no more painful than eyebrow plucking. But I was wrong. The technique we used for the lips is called "kissed lips," and it involves a lot of punctures. However, Natalia did everything so quickly that my pain lasted no more than a few minutes.
The moment of truth. Natalia hands me a mirror and says, “Please take a look at the shape; maybe you want to add volume somewhere.” Afraid to see enormous monkey lips in the reflection, I cautiously looked at myself and… “oh my god, they are perfect! A little fuller than before, but so natural and real!” – I almost shriek in delight.
Then the doctor checked for asymmetry, gave me the remaining product, and scheduled a correction in a week.
Deciding to spend the rest of the day in peace, I went to a bookstore and bought a book on life psychology, called for a taxi, and headed home to relax.
(Day 43/122 of the experiment)
In the morning, the first thing I did was, of course, run to the mirror to see how my lips were doing. Surprisingly, they looked so natural and without a single bruise – the doctor had warned that there might be small bruises at the injection sites. But my face – at least the lower part – looked perfect.
This week, instead of intense exercise, I chose daily walks. The weather is wonderful – the sun is shining, it’s no longer cold to walk in a light sweater, I can take coffee with me and go breathe in the air. Today, my route was limited to the village of Pidhaitsi and the outskirts of the big city.
When the pedometer announced ten thousand steps, I decided it was time to head home and work on the next point – the facial contour. While walking home, I called Lilia to find out how she was doing. One thing led to another, and my friend asked about my plans for the coming days. I shared everything I was planning to do, and she promised that she would take care of the organization. Lilia's help was very much needed because I didn’t know any dentists or hairdressers in the big city. My main task was to choose what I wanted to achieve in the end and mentally prepare for the changes.
During dinner, I conducted quite a bit of research on how to make the facial contour sharper. Since I wasn't ready to join the army of women with plastic faces after endless injections, I decided to start with the most harmless option – self-massage.
After spending a whole 30 minutes carefully massaging the vertical lines of my forehead, eyebrows, and cheek area, I felt an immediate result. It seemed that my skin had tightened and become more elastic. And combined with my “kissed” lips, I felt like I had somehow rejuvenated by five years.
Before going to bed, I received a text from Lilia that tomorrow we are expected at the beauty salon – I am scheduled for a consultation with the hairstylist. Thanking my friend and agreeing on the time and place to meet, I exhaustedly went to sleep.
All night long, I was being dyed and trimmed, and after all the manipulations, when I got home, I saw that my braids had a bright sea wave color and the long strands below my shoulders had transformed into an ultra-short “pixie” haircut.