Why I Quit Botox: What Made Me Stop and What I Do Instead

Today I’m here to let a dirty little secret out of the bag…

Once upon a time, I did Botox.

Yes, Steph Gannar, owner of the crunchy spa that likes to say, “beauty looks like you.”

Another dirty little secret?

I loved it.

Here’s the tea on why I started Botox, why I quit Botox, and what I do instead now.

Why I Decided to Do Botox

It was a perfect fall morning at Special Kids, an epic place where I worked for 16 years taking care of medically fragile kids.

The petting zoo was set up outside, and I was living the dream helping kids pet little bunnies and goats. Another nurse and I grabbed some baby bunnies and snapped a photo.

When I looked at myself in that photo, I didn’t see the joy of the day.

I saw “elevens,” “crow’s feet,” and “jowls.”

Once I saw them, I couldn’t unsee them. And that commenced a new habit of looking in the mirror and thinking, “I don’t even recognize myself.”

I had a friend who was doing Botox parties as a side gig. I told her about my woes, and she said, “Oh, a little Botox would fix all of that.”

That’s all it took. I booked a Botox party and invited all my friends.

20 Units

I didn’t want to look frozen or unnatural, so I only got 20 units over ten different injection sites.

Let me tell you…

IT WAS AWESOME.

Over the next week, my face completely transformed. I looked 21 again. I had earned those elevens from my days on the pitching mound, squinting in the sun and looking for the next signal and I couldn't remember my face without them. So I might've even younger than 21! 

My friend had told me that experiencing some heaviness where the Botox was injected could happen, so I didn’t think much of the odd headache I had afterward.

And for the next two years, I got Botox touch-ups about every six months.

What Made Me Quit Botox?

There’s another small tidbit you need to know to understand this story. I suffered a traumatic brain injury when I was 17.

That matters because, ultimately, the headaches I experienced in the weeks following Botox were what first got my attention.

It wasn’t a throbbing, miserable headache. It was more of a dull heaviness that I couldn’t quite ignore and that would go away with ibuprofen. Something about that headache made me start paying attention to other things.

That’s when the brain fog started to stand out.  It was something I had brushed off before because, honestly, I so badly wanted the face I saw in the mirror. But once the pieces started falling into place—headache, brain fog, and the fact that Botox works by temporarily reducing muscle movement—a little voice inside me said:

Maybe this isn’t such a good idea for me.

And when you already have a history of neurological problems, I decided it wasn’t wise for me to ignore these new symptoms.

So I quit Botox.

What I’m NOT Saying

I want to be really clear here.

I’m not saying that I know Botox causes headaches or brain fog.

I’m not saying I know Botox is unsafe.

And I’m definitely not saying you should or shouldn’t get Botox.

A. I’m not that smart.

B. I’m not your boss.

😂

What I am saying is that I know myself better than anyone else.

And the voice of truth inside of me—the one I’ve learned to trust over the years—was waving a giant flag. Maybe Botox wasn’t the right choice for me.

And that’s okay.

What I Do Instead of Botox

The first thing I did after quitting Botox was probably the most important:

I stopped looking in the mirror and picking my face apart.

What a destructive behavior.

Honestly, I hardly pay attention to my reflection these days. But it wasn’t always that way. It took years of practice choosing to look at myself differently.

Instead of choosing to see:

• Elevens, I called it evidence of tears and grief. Which means I love big
• Crow’s feet, I see laugh lines of joy.
• Jowls, I see my momma.
• Gray hair, I see my daddy.

And somewhere along the way, I realized that maybe my face wasn’t something that needed to be fixed. Maybe it was just a face that had lived a life a girl with only my story.

I Started Paying Attention to Facial Tension

The second thing I did was start paying attention to where I hold tension.

Botox works by temporarily reducing muscle activity, which got me thinking about something I could actually work on: the tension I was holding in my face.

Turns out, I clench my jaw.

• I furrow my brows.
• I shrug my shoulders up to my ears.
• I jut my mandible forward.

Apparently, my face has been doing CrossFit without telling me.

So instead of trying to completely stop those muscles from moving, I started becoming more aware of how much tension I was carrying.

Facial Massage Became Part of My Routine

I also started massaging my face and scalp regularly.

And when the areas of tension get too tight for me to handle myself, I book a 90-minute facial with Makaila and tell her:

“Go to work.”

There’s something about slowing down, getting out of my own head, and having someone work on all those little areas where I hold tension that makes me feel like myself again.

And yes, this is probably where the owner of a spa is supposed to tell you to book a facial.

But honestly?

It's what I actually do myself. I'm not just saying that. 

I Focus on Healthy, Hydrated Skin

The last piece of my post-Botox routine is keeping my skin—and my body—hydrated.

My current skincare routine includes Vitamin C Oil, Antioxidant Oil, and Soothing Cream, and my neck and chest have never felt smoother.

I’m not trying to turn back the clock.

I’m trying to take really good care of the skin I have.

There’s a difference.

So, Do I Regret Botox?

Nope.

I don’t regret doing Botox.

I loved the way it looked. I loved seeing a smoother version of my face in the mirror. And I understand completely why people choose it.

But I also don’t regret quitting.

For me, stepping away from Botox became about so much more than wrinkles.

It became about learning to look at my face without immediately looking for something wrong with it.

It became about paying attention to tension instead of fighting my face.

It became about taking care of my skin instead of trying to erase every sign that I’ve lived a life.

And, maybe most importantly, it taught me that beauty really can look like you.

Even when you have the elevens.

Even when you have the crow’s feet.

Even when you have the jowls.

Especially then.