Between the Lines
In honor of October’s spa month I’m taking a closer inspection at how women “relax”. During this month women flee to high-end spas when a regular price is chopped by 50 to 75 percent. Some people may say – to each woman her own sense of youth – but when a bamboo screen is replaced by a metal door and the product offered isn’t a message but laser or Botox, it’s difficult to comprehend how women choose to spend their free time trying to hide away their badge of wisdom.
Especially in Miami, a city that is famous for South Beach’s nightlife and youthful, beach-life essence, has gone through
some major transitions. Once a wide-spectrum of spas made a day of relaxing by the water and sipping cucumber water. Now, with the obsession that sixty year olds should fit into leather pants and be among the wrinkle-free population, spas have changed their platter of services to give demographic what they want.
However, why is it that rather than easing a knot between their shoulders, women prefer to clench the doctor’s seat as a needle bee stings their wrinkles, numbing their face into a mask? While the majority of those who lean towards the Botox mania are in their thirties through sixties, the mentality that leads to paying hundreds of dollars per treatment begins at adolescence. While girls in junior high scrutinize themselves in the mirror for growing into one size larger than their friends, their minds jump to believing the worst about themselves. Instead of acknowledging the coming-of-age of puberty, insecurities cling like weeds. When they grow old enough to get treatment they feel as though it’s their chance to erase what they think are imperfections, when in reality it’s just what makes them unique.
Prompt: In a non-fiction piece, between 500 to 1,000 words, share a moment in which you didn’t have to say, “Mirror, mirror on the wall…” to know that you were beautiful.