Back in March, the lease on my Brooklyn apartment was nearly up and COVID-19 was shutting down New York City. Faced with the idea of being trapped inside a two-bedroom apartment all summer, my boyfriend and I decided to head to my parents’ house in Illinois to save on rent. At first, we thought we might stay for a month or two, but as the situation worsened across the country, it became clear that we might be here for a while.
Celebrities began going live on Instagram relentlessly, plans were being canceled, and friends and family members were getting sick. By May, I was emotionally drained from the horror of it all, working from home full-time and ready to put my energy into something that I could look forward to. With courage and some saved rent money, I started looking for a plastic surgeon.
As I got older, I mostly just felt annoyed by my nose, like it was getting in the way of the rest of my face.
The first time I recall feeling self-conscious about my nose was when a guy I was dating said it was one of the first things he noticed about me. “I thought you were a pretty girl, but you had a nose,” he said. He didn’t mean it maliciously; it was more matter-of-fact.
I knew I had a big nose with a signature Sicilian bump on the bridge, but I had always just seen it as a part of me, a familial link. That cartilage-filled link included a slew of sinus issues and a special bonus of chronic nosebleeds that got increasingly worse. During the dry months of the year, I’d have to regularly excuse myself from work to sit in a bathroom stall and wait for them to pass. As I got older, I mostly just felt annoyed by my nose, like it was getting in the way of the rest of my face. This idea was only reinforced when mask wearing became mandatory and I basked in the pleasure of my least-favorite feature being hidden.
Nose jobs are pricey in New York City, with the average cost coming in at around $10,000 to $15,000. But in Chicago, where I’m staying, the average price is closer to between $5,000 and $9,000. So I knew that if I wanted to go through with the procedure, now was the time. A friend with experience in plastic surgery recommended a surgeon, and I scheduled a consultation for June 12. The first visit was over the phone, and I was not able to meet the doctor prior to the day of surgery because of COVID-19. Initially, I was alarmed that some guy who I’d never even met was going to change my face forever. But I also knew that he had 30 years of experience and meeting me once before surgery wasn’t going to change his ability to do his job.
On our first call, I explained that I liked my nose overall and I wanted to just get rid of the bump. I felt a twang of guilt as I said the words out loud. Was I being too vain, especially given the state of the world? Although I had been saving for this and had a unique opportunity to work from home indefinitely during the recovery, I knew it was a risky time to spend so much money on something I didn’t necessarily need.
