On plastic Surgery and Authenticity

Before I begin, let me get this out of the way: I’m not talking about plastic surgery in cases where people have had accidents, illnesses, or any condition that required such procedures for medical or reconstructive reasons.

I’m about to turn 37 next month, and like many of you, I grew up in a world where appearances—whether through status objects, roles, or how we looked—were often used as the measure of value. I’ve written before about how older generations were also victims of these beliefs, and how thoughts like these continue to be passed down—until someone decides to pause and say, “Hold on a minute, this doesn’t make any sense.”

Each generation has its own work to do: to “figure out” what’s been inherited, and to ask new questions about the human experience. For my parents’ generation, I understand they were raised to believe that appearances mattered, and that our value had to be earned—placing power in others’ hands to determine whether something or someone was worthy. This gave rise to entire industries built around the idea that worth is external, not inherent. It’s something to acquire, not something we’re born with.

Like many things, this belief system brought both benefits and consequences. I’ve moved past seeing everything in black and white, as simply good or bad. These ideas caused a lot of trauma for many of us, and even for our parents. But they also sparked things that were useful. If we hadn’t gone through this obsession with appearances, maybe we wouldn’t have come to understand our deep need for authenticity. Sometimes, it takes extremes to reveal where balance lives. In that sense, extremes are like edges—they show us where the middle ground might be.

When I studied Philosophy at university, I chose that path because I wanted to understand life. Academia itself wasn’t a great experience for me (for a variety of personal reasons, and maybe due to the professors I had), but even at 18, I had this sense that the future would revolve around an emotional revolution.

We had the Industrial Revolution, which in many ways gave us access to new lifestyles—yes, with pros and cons. The automation of certain things freed up space for people to start thinking about other parts of life. It’s kind of like Maslow’s hierarchy of needs: once survival is secured, we have space for other pursuits. That’s where philosophy and innovation begin, to put it simply.

So I believed that the next big leap for humanity would be around valuing emotional intelligence. And over the past 15 years, I’ve definitely seen signs of that shift. Sure, there’s a lot of noise, and it’s easy to fall into the narrative that people are “dumber” now—but we forget that for centuries, not everyone had access to information, to a voice, or to the freedom of being themselves. Society just wasn’t there yet.

Think about it—portraits, biographies, and the stories passed down through generations were only available to those with money and social standing. Maybe that’s why, subconsciously, we’ve admired politicians, celebrities, and monarchs for so long—because in the old world, only they had access to visibility. But let’s not be naive. The higher the status, often the higher the cost—playing the game of appearances, managing public criticism. It doesn’t necessarily mean those people were accepted for being themselves. Often, it’s the opposite.

That’s one reason why I can no longer criticize people for sharing their lives online. I used to—maybe out of fear of losing privacy—but now I see it as something necessary. Not necessarily in the way it’s often done today, but more in the sense that when someone creates or shares something from a place of authenticity, the world heals a little bit. Not all content is meant for all of us—and that’s the point. What doesn’t resonate with me or you might mean the world to someone else. We never know the true impact (positive or negative) something might have, but it starts conversations, makes people feel seen, or brings light to topics that need to be explored differently.

All in all, what I’m coming to learn with age is that we all make mistakes, we all want to be seen and valued for who we are, and we all long to be accepted. But that can only happen if we accept ourselves first. And for that to become the norm, we need more people showing up as their real selves—so that others feel safe to do the same.

Now you may ask: “But Francisca, what does this have to do with plastic surgery?”

Well, when I was younger, I saw it as something shameful—something celebrities did without admitting it. Because somehow society demanded perfection but made people feel shame if they tried to get it unnaturally…make it make sense! But with time (and I’m not saying I’m old—calm down!), I’ve come to understand that if we didn’t grow up in environments where we felt safe to be ourselves, it’s easy to fall into the trap of feeling like time was stolen from us. Society does promote youth, but I think the root is deeper: it promotes the belief that we are inadequate, unworthy of love, of being seen, of just being ourselves. That’s what it really comes down to, if you ask me.

Yes, there are more complex layers to all this. But in my own case, I’ve recently asked myself if I want to jump on the plastic surgery bandwagon. Part of me feels like the pain I experienced in my youth made me lose time or self-worth. But yesterday, I read something that said, “You wouldn’t be who you are today if you hadn’t gone through that pain” and that is true. There is beauty in the adversity we overcome, in the scares that show we stand here, we persisted beyond the odds and what life took from us. And it made me realize—we should see imperfections as blessings. They’re what connect us.

So yes, I understand why people choose to undergo procedures—especially in the public eye, where so few take the time to understand what that person might be going through. We see their privilege and assume that because they’re visible—like royalty—they must be okay. But that’s not always true. Often, they’re carrying as much pain and fear as the rest of us.

I believe the next frontier for humanity will be about embracing our imperfections—not chasing the illusion of perfection. Whether someone is in the spotlight or prefers a quieter life, we all crave to be appreciated, respected, and valued for our authentic selves. Even if it’s just by a few people who truly see us and make us feel safe being who we are. Yes, it starts within, but I hope we’ll continue to see more people sharing what makes their souls feel alive—not just what they think they need to be in order to be accepted.

To be clear, I’m not saying that someone is better or worse, more or less, depending on whether they choose plastic surgery. Not at all. I just want to say—I understand. And no matter the choice, I hope they know they’re already enough, as they are. Even with lots of things done—or nothing at all—their worth is intact.

So here’s a little reminder: be kind, always. We never know what someone is going through.

As for me—for now, I think I’ll stay away from it. But who knows? Ask me in ten years. Either way, it’s okay. What I truly want to see more of—regardless of how someone looks or what they have—is who they are.

Have an amazing week! 💜

Francisca