There are little initiation rituals in every new situation, some formal, some not. I spent my college years in a sorority, so I’ve experienced the formal. And I worked at a camp for more than half my life and endured the less formal “unsuspecting new counselor gets thrown in the lake thing” too.

And about a month ago, I was officially initiated as part of my Boca resident status.

I popped my Botox cherry.

That’s right! This chick got Botox…for the first time ever.

Now before I dig into the nuts and bolts of my experience, let me be clear than I am STILL slinging R+F (hit me up if you need the goods…seriously), and I also personally use a ton of the products multiple times a day and have no intention of stopping because I truly do love it, I know my skin is in the best shape it’s ever been in…and retinol does a body good y’all!

Seriously, this is what goes on…


I did not use Botox as a replacement, rather as an enhancement. (And yes, I still even love the Acute Care Strips, before you start asking).

I have made many a reference to the overwhelming prevalence of Botox in Boca. And I have also been very clear that I was sure one day I would give it whirl. And so I did! I had two major events coming up, so after some cajoling from some of my gal pals who swore it was not a big deal, I succumbed to the peer pressure (I mean, have you seen my girlfriends? They are so gorgeous and I won’t out anyone, but I dare you to guess who’s had the big B and who hasn’t because the ones that have, don’t look all juiced up like the guy who used to be Gene Simmons from KISS).

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I did not tell anyone I was getting it except for my best friend and my husband. I didn’t even tell my mother because I couldn’t handle the Jewish guilt I knew she would lay on thick and might sway me.

Plus I’d seen women with not-so-great end results like one eye being temporarily slightly higher than the other until the Botox settled (Related Note: As much as I love a good deal, you probably shouldn’t buy Groupons for things like Botox).

I would only take this leap with my own dermatologist, who I have gone to since the moment I moved back to FL a few years ago, so I knew I was in good hands. Mostly for two reasons. 1) He looks totally normal and does not have a face that looks like a testing ground for cosmetic dermatological procedures. And 2) His office is not one of those that you go to and get the hard sell at the end for three thousand dollar useless creams and lotions made out of placenta from rare female polar bears that are hand-fed only organic salmon. He’s the real deal and so if I was jumping on the Botox wagon, I was for sure hitching my car to his train.

Guys, it may not be a big deal to you, especially if you’ve done it, but I was freaked the eff out. I’m a scaredy cat with things related to appearance. I never even highlighted my hair until I was 30. That is not an exaggeration, and I grew up in South Florida where highlights are like a rite of passage right before your bat mitzvah. My eyebrows also never met a tweezer (except the middle part so I at least didn’t have a unibrow) until I went to college and joined a sorority basically made-up of supermodels and realized my mom’s whole “you have classic eyebrows like Brooke Shields and people would kill for them” line was bullshit.

I breathed a sigh of relief when I got to my appointment and everyone at the office was so breezy. I felt better almost immediately. They gave me the run down on what to expect, the head’s up about the “Botox Bumps”, numbed the area and injected away. I started small – with the forehead and my 11s and prayed I didn’t leave looking like Sloth from Goonies.

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It was seriously easier than a flu shot and did not even hurt.

Full disclosure – had I not been warned about the Botox bumps, I would have lost my shit when I got in the car and looked in the rear view mirror. There were a small group of welts and the only way I can really explain it is that it looked like at any minute I could sprout a small limb from my forehead. Knowing it was temporary, I toyed with the idea of taking a selfie and sending it to my mom with a comment like, “had a little something done today…whaddya think?” But, considering that handling stressful situations with composure is not her strong suit, I decided against it.

By the time I got home, 15/20 mins later the bumps were 100% gone and I effing LOVED my new forehead. And…guess who has two thumbs and no 11s??

I definitely noticed a difference and others did too. My BIGGEST concern would be that I would look dead in the face; that people would literally not be able to tell what emotion I was experiencing due to paralysis in my face…you know what I am talking about – when you are chatting with a girl (or guy, they do it too), she’s not even breaking a smile and you have the epiphany…ooohhh she’s not a bitch, she just literally can’t smile! Then I realized that the reason that happens is because there are people who simply abuse Botox, but I will NEVER be one of them.

Exhibit A

Exhibit A

Seriously, if you ever see me starting to resemble the above, somebody initiate a Botox intervention, stat! (The same goes for if I EVER say I am going to chop my hair or go Vegan.)

Another reason I didn’t want to tell anyone beforehand, was because people get very judgy about this stuff and I genuinely wanted to see what the reactions would be without leading the witness (Clearly, I like these little social experiments, I did the same thing when I started using my R+F products). I got A LOT of compliments but what I loved most was that NOBODY asked me “if I had work done”. Which is exactly what I wanted. I didn’t want to look like the poster child for dabbling in elective cosmetic procedures.

And for those of you who think Botox is a gateway drug, I have no intention of jumping into any major nips, tucks or injecting ass fat into my lips, so don’t worry.

I do not regret it, would totally do it again (and will, eventually).

And after living in Boca for a few years, I guess now I am officially official. Mazel Tov to me and my new forehead.

Old forehead

Old forehead

New forehead

New forehead

(And if you want in…I know a guy)





Club W