The Story Of My Face
Here's the full blog post with everything added:
The Story of My Face
The Story by Brandi Carlile is one of my most favorite songs. The opening lines have resonated with me since I first heard them — unbelievably powerful, poignant, and honest. I've lost count of how many times I've played it on repeat. But I only recently heard those lyrics through a different lens: beauty standards and their relentlessly annoying "anti-aging" messaging.
Then I moved to the coast of Portugal and started seeing all these beautiful women — aging. I don't even want to say gracefully, because that phrase annoys me too. As if choosing a beauty path that makes someone else comfortable is the gold standard. I'm pretty sure a woman didn't coin that one. And if she did, she was in her twenties.
So here I am. And I realized — I hadn't had botox in a year. I kept canceling appointments before the move, and then I was the move, and then I didn't want to just walk into somewhere new. But I kept seeing these women all around me, living fully in their faces. Then on a long walk, The Story came on again and I actually listened — really listened — with a new perspective.
Why would I want to erase the story being written on my face?
I have a lot of laugh lines. They've gotten longer and made a few younger friends. I have what they call "smoker's lines" — I've never smoked, never drink from a straw, but I did love lollipops. Crow's feet? Who came up with that name? Why not resplendent quetzal lines? (Look them up — stunning.) Sun spots? Doesn't that tell the story of someone who laughed a lot, cried some, and found genuine joy in kid candy?
Why would I want my face to be a blank canvas? I don't.
But the media, the marketing, the messaging — it's been telling women this since we were little girls. Be pretty. Be nice. Be quiet. Not: be smart. Be brave. Be kind. Be you. So I did. I chose my face, fully lived.
Don't get me wrong — at 56, this is not always easy. I've been blessed with decent skin genes (thank you, Providencia Machado Chavez), but aging is real. And the story women have been told means we're never actually in the beauty moment of who and where we are. Everything is framed as anti-aging, and once that window closes we jump straight to preservation — like we're some kind of relic.
I keep seeing posts from women my age looking at photos of their younger selves, feeling sad. Thinner. Perkier. Better skin. Younger. When I look at my younger photos, I feel sad for a different reason — because even then, with no wrinkles and a youthful body, I wanted to change it. Be taller. Smaller chest. Have a tan. On and on it went.
Those photos make me sad because I couldn't just see myself. The upside? That restlessness gave me my love of fashion, because clothes could hide this and highlight that. But no more of that. A life fully lived.
The reframe now: no needles (besides acupuncture). Work with what I've got and genuinely improve upon it. Better brows — no more hiding behind bangs as an excuse. Monthly facials, because keeping skin clean and clear actually matters. And all that money that used to go to needles? It goes to memories now. To life.
If you're curious what I'm reaching for and interested in — the brow products, the facial tools, the clean skincare that's replaced the needle appointments without prescription — I put it all together for you. Shop The No-Needle Edit
It's not always easy, and it's not always going to be. But I want to see what a life fully lived looks like on this face. I want the photographic map — from beginning to end. Who I was meant to be. The face, body, and heart that arrived, and will one day depart.
Have you made a beauty decision that felt scary and right at the same time? I'd love to know — tell me in the comments.
P.S. If you want a fresh set of eyes on your wardrobe — virtually, from wherever you are — a Style Snap is $75 and takes less than a day. Just hit the Services page. Easy first step.
xo Suzi
