When individuals consider Botox and fillers, they often associate them with vanity. Stiff foreheads. Plump lips. Women pursuing youthfulness. Injectors pursuing income. They overlook the woman who has just left a 20-year abusive relationship, coming in not for admiration but for empowerment. They fail to recognize the mother grieving her child, wishing that appearing “normal” on the outside could help calm the tempest inside. They miss the cancer survivor gazing at her reflection with a face ravaged by chemotherapy and unwanted weight loss.

But I do.

In my role as an aesthetic nurse practitioner, I’ve discovered that we’re not merely smoothing wrinkles or replenishing volume. We are bearing witness to stories. The silent ones. The burdensome ones. The consultation room turns into a sanctuary—not because it was intended to be, but because individuals confide in us with their faces, and in doing so, often confide in us with their heartache.

At my aesthetic clinic, I’ve witnessed patients weep before we ever use a syringe. Some communicate in hushed tones, embarrassed that they care about their outward appearance—because they’ve been led to believe it’s superficial, self-centered, and unworthy of professional validation. However, when we truly listen—we uncover the deeper reality: This is not simply about appearing youthful. It’s about feeling acknowledged. Reclaiming one’s identity. Recovering from trauma. Celebrating survival.

Cosmetic treatments frequently serve as the starting point—not the conclusion—of care. Patients arrive for “just Botox,” but depart feeling acknowledged, human, and whole. That’s not vanity. That’s healthcare.

Aesthetic practitioners are emotional first responders. We encounter individuals at their most fragile, not because they’re physically wounded, but because life has left them with invisible scars. We must cease apologizing for the work we do. We assess facial symmetry, yes—but we also listen to narratives. We create a facial balancing strategy while sharing laughter with patients, discussing their weekend plans, and nurturing their long-term aspirations. We address volume reduction—and we affirm the loss that accompanies it.

This isn’t to exaggerate our work or imply that a cosmetic consultation is on par with therapy. Rather, it’s to acknowledge: The face is profoundly linked to the psyche. And when we engage with it, we’re often interacting with far more than mere skin.

It’s time for the broader medical field to recognize this truth. Aesthetic care is not superfluous. It is not trivial. In skilled hands, it’s transformative—and not just in reflection.

So, no, we’re not merely addressing the face. We’re addressing the woman behind it. The sorrow beneath it. The bravery within it.

I’d even venture to describe it as feminist.

Sarah White is a nurse practitioner, small business owner, and premedical student located in Virginia. With a foundation in clinical practice and caregiving, she offers a distinctive viewpoint on the intersection of medicine, family life, and community engagement. She volunteers with the Medical Reserve Corps and is preparing to apply to medical school in 2026.

Sarah is also the creator of two flourishing ventures: [Wrinkle Relaxer](https://www.instagram.com/wrinklerelaxer/?hl=en), where she focuses on aesthetic treatments, and [Bardot Boutique Aesthetics](https://www.instagram.com/bardotboutiqueaesthetics/?hl=en), a venue for curated beauty and wellness services.