The Time I Tried Botox

I think of all the women I admire most in my life, the ones who smile to expose years of laughter at the corners of their eyes or the sides of their mouths and I find so much beauty in that. So much grace in the lines of their foreheads, or the way a strong neck can still look so ready to shoulder so many burdens, even as the skin has begun to thin and sag just the slightest. There is something exquisite in the thin wisps of silver in my mother’s hair. The strands are so clearly defined, I can almost count them individually, as though I know how she earned every one.

The Time I Tried Acupuncture

What if my anxiety is making my pulse jump and he puts the needles in the wrong place? What if I’m failing acupuncture? Is that even possible? Just when I think I can’t take it anymore, he releases my wrist. I think I audibly sigh, but I wiggle my shoulders in what looks like a relaxing motion, so he thinks I’m just settling in. Then, he moves around the table and repeats the whole process on my left side.