My plastic surgery story time!!! part 1!

Because yes, nobody’s perfect, not even me!

Plastic surgery has never been more popular, accessible and affordable! With nose job instagram filters and body morphing AI software at our fingertips, it’s super easy to try on a new face! Technology plays devils advocate by showing people what they could look like if they got work done… The line between reality and artificially enhanced beauty is blurring and bleeding into real life.

Plastic surgery was once only whispered about, reserved for celebrities and wealthy individuals and kept private. It just wasn’t normal to have anything done if you were a regular person. But thanks to societal change fuelled by social media there has been a massive surge in normalisation and thusly, the popularity of plastic surgery. Surgeons have caught onto this and with the rise in demand, there is a rise of surgeons with competitive prices. Turkey has become the Mecca of cheap plastic surgery because there are simply so many cosmetic surgeons operating there, competing with eachother, offering cheaper rates to attract more custom. Plastic surgeons offer inclusive packages holiday-style that include flights, hotels and hospitality. As well as your new tits!

Plastic surgery being more widely available to people of all economic backgrounds certainly isn’t a bad thing. What’s concerning is when the quality of healthcare and aftercare is compromised due to the unethical practices that seem to sadly go hand in hand with cheap too good to be true surgery and surgeons motivated by profit, not people. Everyone should be able to access a golden standard of health care when having cosmetic surgery. However, this is the real world, so that’s just not the case.

As much as I’m very pro plastic surgery for the right reasons, I find the way social media so causally turns plastic surgery into a trends super problematic. And what’s worse is when people feel as though they have to get plastic surgery just to fit the beauty standards, or fit in with society as a whole. That’s fucked up. We shouldn’t feel like we have to do anything as result of peer pressure, let alone get a bbl!

My introduction, that provides a little context on how I feel about plastic surgery aside, let’s get to what y’all really wanna read… Story time!

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From as young as I can remember, I felt very insecure about my ears. I was hyper aware of how they stuck out when my hair was up, and stuck through my hair when I wore it down. I developed fidgeting ticks from the reparative action of fussing with my hair, in hopes to cover my ears and stop them poking through. I’d anxiously fuss all throughout the day, even when I was alone. Although it was much worse when in public. I felt as though everyone who saw me was just looking at my ears. That was all I could think about when I spoke to people. Oh my god, they’re looking at my ears. They’re thinking how ugly I look. They’re judging me. They think I’m a lesser prison because of my ears. They hate me. Over and over in my head. Which causes me to fidget and fuss with my hair more. It became an ocd obsession (thoughts) and compulsion (actions) cycle. This all only worsened as I hit puberty (like everything else in my life lol). Generally feeling even more insecure in my changing body and also generally just super depressed and anxious and faint because I’d kinda stopped eating carbohydrates.

In secondary school my worst fears were realised, and although that line could apply to many things lol. What I’m referring to in this instance was a certain boy who took notice of my ears and made all my secret fears come to life when he nicknamed me elf. I’m sure he could see the reaction it gathered in me. I was quiet and stoic. Riddled with social anxiety at this age. I had long straight dyed black hair at this point too and in hindsight I’m sure that the stark black hair only accentuated my pale ears that poked out. “Hi elf” hed begun saying to me every time I walked into class a little late. Drawing everyone else’s attention and eyes on to me. Seeing how uncomfortable this made me only fuelled him to do it more and more often. Every time he’d see me in fact.

This prompted me for the first time to seriously google and research ear plastic surgery - an autoplasty. In doing this I also researched ways I could stop my ears from showing or cover them up. I learnt I could use the ends of an alice band to pin my ears down to my head. I also learnt that getting an Alice band with a big bow glued on one side also distracted from my ears. So for the rest of my time attending secondary school I religiously worse an Alice band.

I’ve added a picture incase you’re like what’s an Alice band? I’m sure you can imagine better with a photo how I’d place the end of it over the tops of my ears to clamp them down to my head.

I soon realised that Alice bands made of metal, not plastic, pinned down my ears and held them in place the strongest. But the thing about these tight metal headbands is they really hurt my ears. By the end of the day I’d have a sore burning red imprint left in the top of my ears. And yet the very next day I’d wear it again. Causing the tops of my ears to become extremely sore and bruised. I’d also get these killer tension headaches because anyone that’s ever worn a metal Alice band will know they get super uncomfy after a time. But these Alice bands were my security blanket and I became deeply dependant on them. I completely stopped attending any classes where you had to tie your hair up. Like food tech and dt, because I was so embarrassed and ashamed of my ears that I couldn’t possibly tie my hair up and expose them. I wore those bands throughout the five years I went to secondary school. I’m not kidding when I say the only thing that got me to stop wearing them was when I became a heavy drug user, after doing my GCSEs. I was so high that for the first time in my life, I wasn’t worrying about my ears. Yay?

I was so painfully embarrassed by my ears that I’d kept my hatred of them a complete secret from everyone in my life. Even my closest friends and parents knew nothing about the turmoil they caused me. But one horrendous day in 2021, I hit breaking point and finally felt brave enough to ask my mum for help. She was so shocked but sympathetic, saying she’d help me explore my options. And I recognise I’m super privileged here.

Finding a surgeon…

To begin, my mum suggested I book a gp appointment, as in some super rare cases you can get cosmetic surgery done on the nhs, if the problem is causing you recognisably severe mental distress. I had an appointment with a gp who said because of my outstanding mental health issues I may be a candidate and he’d refer me to the plastic surgery department at St Thomas’s hospital.

The first private surgeon I met with was on Harley street. Start at the top I thought! I went to a general consultation that cost a couple hundred pounds. I was enquiring particularly about a less invasive and less expensive procedure he offered; Earfold clips. This entailed inserting small, C-shaped metal clips under the skin in the crease of the ear, to fold back the ears back into a more desirable position. Performed under local anaesthetic, it seemed like a less scary procedure to have done.

However upon consultation I quickly learnt my ears were basically too bad to be fixed by just a clip under the skin. I needed cartilage removed and corrective stitches. Already things were stating to sound scary and get more expensive…

It’s also important to note, I really didn’t like this surgeon. I found him really unprofessional, he had such a blasé, unserious attitude that it made me feel uncomfortable. This was my first time opening up to a plastic surgeon about my biggest insecurity and I felt as though he wasn’t talking anything seriously. The appointment felt rushed and I really wasn’t reassured by the way he spoke about my ears. As if they were some huge inconvenience to him. It was embarrassing and I left feeling even more hopeless and frustrated…

Next came my appointment at the plastics department of St Thomas’s hospital. I met with the loveliest surgeon, who made me feel acknowledged and respected. He took my concerns seriously and I was feeling really hopeful about the whole thing until he told me that the nhs just doesn’t do shit like pay for peoples cosmetic survey anymore. He said it was extremely unlikely they’d be able to take my case. He acknowledged what a fault in the system this was for people in situations like mine. I was really disheartened by this, as I really liked this surgeons outlook and personality. However before leaving he did hint to me that he also worked privately. And that I should google him…

Upon googling I discovered he currently worked out of a clinic in Chelsea, right by Sloane Square. And was just about to open his own private hospital for cosmetic procedures in Battersea! So I booked myself a consultation with him and his super helpful PA, in Chelsea. What I found touching was that he did remember me from our first meeting at St T’s.

The consultation was thorough, serious without being scary. I respected how honest he was, re; the risks and managing my expectations. He didn’t try to sugarcoat anything or push a bias. Thusly I felt really confident believing everything he told me. He was extremely informative and helpful all while being approachable and kind. After the consultation he took some before photos of my ears. I was told to take my time and have a think before contacting his PA if I decided to go ahead with it, who’d then book me in for surgery. I’d never felt happier, walking out of that appointment filled with reassurance and hope!

…My surgery was booked for June 20th 2022!

To be continued ;)