I have lip filler. I am putting it out there because I don’t think it’s something to hide. But that’s not to say I don’t understand why women keep this side a secret. In today’s society, cosmetic procedures are more common than the average person would think. We all assume this is something only celebrities have or women who are insecure. I am here to tell you, that’s not the truth. According to the American Society of Plastic Surgeons, over 1.5 million lip augmentation procedures were performed in the U.S. in 2024 alone and that doesn’t even include Botox, breast augmentations, or liposuction. Yet somehow we are claiming to be in our “clean girl” or “natural girl” eras. How does that math work? If everyone’s so natural, who’s getting all these procedures — and why are we pretending they aren’t?
The secrecy isn’t just about wanting to seem effortlessly perfect or “I woke up like this.” It’s about the impossible pressure society puts on beauty. We’re expected to look a certain way — full lips, clear skin, a specific body type — but God forbid we admit we did anything to get there. We’ve created these rigid beauty standards, labeled certain features as “beautiful” and others as needing to be “fixed,” and then we shame people for trying to meet the standards we set. Here’s the real kicker: we preach self-love and body positivity, but only when it’s convenient. We celebrate acceptance around weight or features people can’t easily change. But cosmetic procedures? Suddenly that’s vain. That’s fake. That’s giving in. The hypocrisy is exhausting.
Let me get personal for a second. I’ve never been insecure about my lips. I don’t hate the way they look or feel the need to overline them to make them appear bigger. But I’ve always thought they’d look a little fuller. That’s it. Not out of shame or self-hatred—just preference. I love my eyes. I love my nose. Why shouldn’t I feel the exact same way about my lips?
But here’s the thing: every time I mentioned wanting lip filler, people would immediately jump in with “You’re perfect!” or “Don’t think like that.” As if wanting to enhance something means I hate it. As if I’m not allowed to want more for myself without it being a cry for help. Their discomfort became my shame. I started feeling guilty for wanting something that would make me feel more confident,not because I thought there was anything wrong with the idea, but because everyone else treated it like there was.
When did we get to the point where wanting to enhance your features became something to be ashamed of? We celebrate haircuts, new wardrobes, makeup tutorials, gym transformations — all of those are about changing how you look to feel better about yourself. But lip filler? Suddenly that crosses a line. The logic doesn’t hold up.
After years of going back and forth, I finally sat myself down and asked the hard question: “What is actually stopping you?”
The answer? Me. Just me.
Not my budget. Not a lack of access. Not even fear of the procedure itself. It was the shame I’d internalized from everyone else’s discomfort. I was worried about what people might say, what they might assume about me. That I was vain. That I was insecure. That I was “fake.” But here’s the thing,most of the time, you can’t even tell when someone has lip filler. It’s subtle. Natural-looking. So why was I so terrified of admitting it?
Because we’ve been taught that wanting to look better is something to hide. That if you’re confident, you shouldn’t want to change anything. That real beauty is effortless, and admitting you put in effort — whether it’s filler, Botox, or even just a good skincare routine — makes you less than. It’s bull.
So I made a decision. I got lip filler, and I’m not lying about it. Not because I need anyone’s approval, but because the shame is the problem — not the procedure. And the only way to kill the shame is to refuse to participate in it.
Here’s what many people fail to see: the secrecy is what makes the problem a problem. When people pretend to be natural while having five different procedures done, it creates beauty standards that are literally impossible to achieve. And I don’t blame them,because, on the flip side, when women DO admit they’ve had work done, they get called fake, vain, or insecure. The culture refuses to let women just exist. You can’t win. You’re either lying about your procedures and perpetuating unrealistic standards, or you’re admitting to them and getting labeled as “not natural.”
But here’s my take: it shouldn’t be anyone’s business at all.
I’m not saying everyone needs to announce their cosmetic procedures like it’s some badge of honor. I’m saying we need to stop treating it like it matters. Whether someone gets lip filler or doesn’t get lip filler should be as unremarkable as getting a haircut or buying new jeans. But we’re not there yet. And until we are, I’m refusing to act like my choice is something to hide,not because I owe anyone an explanation, but because hiding it gives power to shame. And I’m done with that.
I have lip filler. I’m not telling you that because you deserve to know — I’m telling you because I refuse to act like it’s something to hide. This isn’t about owing anyone an explanation. It’s about refusing to participate in shame. It’s my body, my choice, and frankly, none of your business.