Why Not Go Under The Knife?

A nose job and two lip jobs later, Tara* Kaushal offers a totally different perspective on why women go under the knife.

- Tara Kaushal

When I was 23, I got myself a rhinoplasty. Though my nose is perfectly straight and sits well proportioned on my face, the somewhat bovine curve at the bottom bothered me. Not the curve, per se, but a childhood memory related to it.

When I was about six, my mother casually mentioned my nose looked like Barbara Streisand’s—which, in itself, is not a bad thing to say (though it doesn’t, what were you smoking, Ma?). A few months later, forgetting all about her comment and the fact that I have a spectacular memory, she said, “Barbara Streisand has a really ugly nose.” This, for a reason that completely escaped her, caused her little daughter to weep and weep until her little heart nearly gave way.

That unintentional scar remained on my psyche; I would never pose for pictures in profile. I was convinced it wasn’t my best face forward. So when I came of age, with my mother in tow, I consulted a plastic surgeon. A few days later, I protested as he injected my nose with local anaesthesia, and endured the hour-long tugging feeling. I walked away with an inconspicuous bandage and a little pain that stayed a few days. The rhinoplasty fixed a psychological scar, nothing else. Physically speaking, there is zero discernable difference between before and after, despite going back a second time. The curve at the bottom still exists as it always did; but whereas it once looked to me like something you’d stick a ring through as if I were a cow, I’ve now made my peace with it. Difference or no difference, money down the drain or not, the surgery made me feel much better about myself.

TRIAL, ERROR

I have since had other permanent changes made to my body. In addition to the navel ring I’ve had and loved since I was 19, I now have many more earholes than the socially prescribed pair, a nose piercing and eight tattoos (and counting).