My Eyelids Are Falling and Other Beauty Myths

A Real Girls Guide to looking badass…while everything shifts south!

My quest to hang onto some recognizable version of my face started in my late 30s. A co-worker, my very own face-freezing fairy godmother, suggested I give it a shot (literally). Her family had a doctor friend who’d fly into the U.S. with syringes like he was smuggling gold. Honestly, he was the best.

I didn’t go crazy. Thankfully, I suffered no frozen face, Joker smile, or “Scarecrow Brows.” I had one nonnegotiable rule: make sure my angry mom eyes still work. Essential tools of the trade.

Over the years, I dabbled a little in fillers. Those were a big, “No thanks, Tom Hanks!” I didn’t want the puffy chipmunk look, and I’d heard horror stories about filler migrating to places it shouldn’t. Hard pass.

The weirdest? Oh, we’re just getting started.

Vampire facial? Did it. (Red and bloody like I’d escaped a murder scene, but my skin glowed.)

Salmon DNA? Yep. And yes, I mean salmon sperm. On the face. Applied with a microneedle roller because apparently, it stimulates (pun fully intended) collagen. I’m three treatments in, and I think it’s working. But I still catch myself Googling “what other sperm varieties might stimulate collagen.” Pro tip: do NOT forget to add “collagen” at the end. Otherwise, you’re in a black hole, and likely, a top Pornhub category.

My mid-50s skincare MVP? Microneedling with radio frequency. Painful (numbing cream required), but after three rounds, including one session so intense I thought my face might fall off. My skin is tighter, a little less crinkly (as my kids lovingly call it), and I almost don’t hate looking in the mirror.

And that’s the thing nobody tells you: midlife isn’t about “holding on” to some past version of your face. It’s the perfect time to rethink what you want. As Danielle Jenkins, RN and founder of Fourth Avenue Aesthetics in South Australia, told me recently:

“Midlife is not a cutoff point; it’s a smart time to begin or rework your treatment goals. And often, results are even more transformative because women start focusing on themselves again — sometimes for the first time in decades.”

---

“You Look Good... For Your Age”: Oh Cool, An Insult Wrapped in Lip Gloss

One annoying phrase I’ve heard more than I’d like: “You look good…for your age.”

What even is that? Am I supposed to say thanks or slap you? Some days, it lands like a compliment. Other days, it feels like a grown-up version of “Bless your heart.” Especially when I’ve put in effort, feel kinda cute and then that verbal grenade drops.

Depending on who’s saying it, it sounds like a pity affirmation. Just say:
“Damn, you look good.” Or even: “You clean up nice.” Anything that doesn’t come with a disclaimer. Because what are you implying? That if I were younger, I’d look worse?

And let’s not even start on: “You look tired.”

Oh, do I? You don’t say.

Just for the record:

• I’m a mom of three (seven, if you count my Aussie’s crew).

• I worked 70-hour weeks (pre-fake-retirement).

• I’m riding Wave 2 of menopause. (Or maybe Wave 3; I lost count.)

• I barely drink water (I must be part camel).

• I sometimes eat gummy bears for dinner. (Green ones = veggies.)

So yes, I look tired. Because I am tired.

Hold my coffee while I slap on some concealer, “Karen”.

I get it - sometimes people don’t mean it as a dig. (Unless it’s your partner’s ex, in which case, yes, it’s a dig.) But it rarely lands with empathy. It’s more like a polite way of saying, “Wow, you look like shit.”

After two+ years of Zoom filters, skipped makeup, and family-grade dark circles, trust me, I don’t need a reminder. If I look tired, I already know.

---

From Zest Soap to Serums: Confessions of a Late-to-the-Party Skincare Convert

To the 20 & 30-somethings:

• Wear sunscreen.

• Moisturize like it’s your damn job.

• Every. Single. Day.

Sadly, I missed both memos.

My mom, still a knockout, didn’t exactly model perfect SPF habits. She was the OG poolside queen, marinating in baby oil. Her flawless skin, smoldering eyes, and silver hair? Deadly combo. Meanwhile, I thought Zest bar soap was skincare. (It’s not.)

Eventually, I realized skincare doesn’t need to be a side hustle or cost the same as my mortgage. A good cleanser (no, Zest still doesn’t count but maybe Noxzema does?), SPF moisturizer, and eye cream? That’s the holy trinity.

Starting at 49? Better than never. But it won’t undo decades of neglect.

Now, I dabble in:

• Serums

• Dewy primers

• Hyaluronic and lactic acid (Don’t freak, your face won’t melt!)

• Liquid blushes and foundations

• Highlighters (Not the Sharpie kind, though my man was confused)

• Light eyeshadow

And I’ve got a drawer of eye patches. YSE’s Overachievers are my fav. Because, well, I am one.

Oh, and one of my worst skincare choices? Hemorrhoid cream under my eyes.

Someone convinced me it reduced puffiness. Post-baby No. 1, I had the tube handy. I even tried medicated pads…I thought they’d be an efficient substitute.

Spoiler: They did nothing for my eyes. And very little for the parts they were actually meant for.

Moral of the story:

• Wear sunscreen.

• Moisturize early.

• Keep the butt cream off your face.

---

You Can Keep Your 20s, Just Give Me Back My Eyelids

Some things just can’t be fixed with serums, syringes, or salmon sperm. Aging is natural. My grandma used to say: it’s better than the alternative.

Still, I’m not above a little maintenance. A Real Girl bestie recently had a full-blown identity crisis at the eye doctor thanks to the world’s worst lighting and the most offensive mirror known to womankind. She was spiraling, trying to straddle the line between her ass and her face falling, but honestly, she couldn’t tell which one was giving out faster. I felt that deep in my soul.

Then another friend texted me out of nowhere: “Did you know our noses keep growing after menopause?!” I was like, never heard of it, but after a quick Google, it seems real. So, I told her yes, but only so they can better sniff out bullshit. We laughed, but also… she wasn’t wrong to notice.

As for me, I recently found myself in a plastic surgeon’s office asking about what it takes to fix my upper and lower eyelids. Not out of shame. Not out of fear. But because I wanted to know. And because I at least want a game plan before they fully pack up and slide south.

Sure, I sometimes miss my 20s and 30s face. She was light, carefree, totally unaware of how badass she already was. And yeah, I occasionally catch a new wrinkle and try to convince myself it’s a dimple.

But here’s the shift: I’ve stopped apologizing for wanting to tweak what I tweak. This isn’t about chasing youth, it’s about claiming choice. I get to decide what stays and what goes. Period.

I see the full picture now: I’ve still got those full lips a dumb boy once called “too big.” Still got chameleon blue eyes (Best Eyes, high school, thank you very much). And sure, my brows and lashes are thinning, and my eyelids are dropping like migrating birds!

But I’ve found real freedom in seeing what’s still mine and still damn good.

This isn’t about pretending I’m 25. It’s about writing my own rules now.

The choice?
It’s mine.
Always was.
Always will be.

Myth: Busted. Truth: Gorgeous.
Let’s stop pretending we owe the world youth to be worthy of visibility. Real Girls age. Real Girls sag. Real Girls show up anyway.

Share this with a woman who needs to hear it. Subscribe if you're ready for more unfiltered beauty truths. And tell me your falling-body-part story here or hit me up at realgirlsguide55@gmail.com. I promise I’ll nod in solidarity (even if my brows won’t lift like they used to.)

---

#RGG55, #RealGirlsGuide, #UnfilteredBeauty, #MidlifeSkincare, #AgingOnMyTerms, #SkincareConfessions

We’ve earned every wrinkle. Might as well make more laugh lines together.
Let’s connect: Instagram | Facebook | LinkedIn