3 Things I Didn’t Expect from My Mid-Face Lift
(And the Truth About What It Cost Me to Come Back to Myself)
I almost cried the morning of surgery.
Not from fear of pain, but from the weight of the question:
“Am I really doing this? Am I about to permanently change my face?”
“Am I crazy? Or is this what coming home to myself looks like now?”
Let’s face it, I was about to forfeit ALL control as soon as the anesthesia kicked in.
The thing about reinvention is that we often imagine it as light-filled, intuitive, clean. But sometimes, it begins on an operating table — swollen, silenced, and unsure.
Here’s what no one told me about what happens after the decision… and the unexpected healing that came in its wake.
1. The Emotional Terror Is Real
No amount of research, confidence, or spiritual tools prepared me for the days immediately after surgery.
I had sutures behind my ears and all along my scalp.
I could barely drink.
The swelling made me feel like I was wearing a permanent helmet.
And I was alone with it. No one can go through this part with you.
It’s like your body becomes a battlefield and a cocoon at the same time. And you’re praying that, when the swelling settles, you’ll still recognize yourself — or maybe even see someone you forgot.
2. I Could Finally Breathe — Literally and Energetically
As soon as I opened my eyes, something remarkable happened: the sinus congestion I had lived with for years disappeared.
No one tells you that tension in the mid-face can restrict lymph flow, nerve pathways, and emotional clarity. My whole head felt… clear. Like air and ideas were moving through me again.
This wasn’t just cosmetic. It was structural. And deeply somatic.
3. My Ocular Nerve Quieted — A Surprise Correction
Months earlier, a bad Botox touch-up had interfered with my vision. Something was off — my eye didn’t track right. It unnerved me more than I let on.
Oddly, although we didn’t touch my forehead in the surgery, the issue resolved. Completely. It’s like the tension released somewhere else in my system allowed healing to return to my eye.
Again — not what I expected. But the face is interconnected. And healing isn’t linear.
4. My Throat Opened After Cutting the Platysmal Bands
This part gives me chills every time I speak it aloud.
Once the platysmal bands were severed — those tense, ropey neck cords that form from time, stress, and silence — my throat felt open in a way it never had before.
As in:
● No more globus sensation.
● No more stuck words.
● No more effort to speak.
And this happened exactly as I was preparing to relaunch my speaking platform.
Coincidence? I don’t believe that anymore.
💬 What This Surgery Really Was
It wasn’t vanity. Although it’s why I signed up.
It wasn’t a shortcut to confidence. More like a desire to not lose more of myself.
It wasn’t me running from age. Even if preservation was in the back of my mind.
It became a reclaiming.
Of my voice.
Of my nervous system.
Of the subtle power that had been leaking through tension I couldn’t name — until it was gone.
I wouldn’t wish this path on anyone lightly. It’s hard. It’s lonely. It requires a level of surrender most people never ask their bodies to make.
But I’ll say this:
It gave me back the version of myself who doesn’t just perform clarity — she embodies it.
And now that my face is no longer holding tension, fear, or trauma, neither is my message.
Your Freedom Is on the Other Side of What You’re Afraid to Do
If there’s one thing this experience reminded me of, it’s this.
Your freedom — your true, embodied, unapologetic freedom — is on the other side of
that thing you’re afraid to do.
I was continuously reminded that I could just do the surface-level things regularly. Like microneedling or filler) Kinda like how we tend to do in life, too. Choosing a framework that keeps us safe but never really creates lasting change or the ultimate experience we desire. Like smiling and nodding in pain while sighing, wishing for deep inner calm.
Whether it’s surgery, speaking up, or stepping into your power, fear is the gatekeeper, not the enemy. So if you’re standing at your own threshold, wondering if you have the courage — remember:
On the other side of that fear is everything you’ve been longing for.
My name is Paige Elizabeth. I spent 22 years in the world of ashtanga yoga as a student and teacher. Now I am a speaker, author of the book, Leading An Intentional Life, and a coach for women looking to recalibrate years of misalignment and a relationship with life that has only led to burnout.