“that one… landed,” o’donnell admitted.
she said the conversation reminded her of her own younger self — “more certain, more morally rigid” — and caused her to delay the surgery for months.
forcing herself to reject cosmetic surgery for ideological reasons wasn’t freedom either
“if i’m teaching clay anything, it can’t be that my body belongs to an idea either. even a good idea. even feminism,” she wrote. “because that’s still not freedom — that’s just a different authority telling you what you’re allowed to do with your own face.”
o’donnell ultimately decided to go through with the procedure after finding a doctor she trusted, someone who had worked on friends of hers who “still looked like themselves.”
before the surgery, she recalled grabbing her doctor’s hand and saying: “i will never say, ‘god, i wish you did more.’”
she explained that she didn’t want to chase perfection or “keep moving the goalpost,” but simply hoped to look “less haunted.”
and, by her own account, that’s exactly what happened
“i do look like me,” she wrote. “a slightly more well-rested emotionally stable version of me.”
ironically, o’donnell said almost nobody has even noticed the difference.
“not one person,” she wrote. “not a friend, not a stranger, not even people who owe me compliments.”
she joked that after going through a “full existential feminist crisis” and surgically altering her face and neck, the reaction was basically “zippo.”
“which honestly is the best possible outcome,” she added. “i didn’t disappear, i didn’t become someone else — i just stopped arguing with the mirror.”
surgery ‘cost more money that i have ever paid for a car’
the poem also touched on o’donnell’s long history with public scrutiny and honesty about her personal life. she compared the pressure she feels to disclose her facelift with the pressure she once felt around publicly discussing her sexuality during the 1990s.