Why I Spent Half a Year Just Thinking About It

That strange feeling of staring at the mirror

I remember walking around Apgujeong-ro for three weeks straight. It wasn’t even about looking ‘better’ in a dramatic sense, but more about that nagging feeling that my jawline didn’t match how I felt inside. Everyone says you should just be confident, but when you catch your reflection in the subway glass and catch a glimpse of an angle you absolutely despise, the logic of ‘self-love’ goes right out the window. I spent so much time on forums, reading about facial contouring procedures, trying to distinguish between legitimate advice and the sponsored nonsense that fills the web. It is exhausting. I visited three different clinics in that area, and the price quotes for a 3-piece facial contouring procedure were all over the map—anywhere from 8 million to 15 million won. The range felt completely arbitrary, like they were just reading my bank account through my outfit.

Walking into the consultation rooms

The first clinic I visited near Apgujeong Station was so polished it felt like walking into a luxury hotel. The receptionist offered me tea while I waited in a room that smelled faintly of expensive lavender. The consultation lasted maybe ten minutes. The doctor looked at my X-rays, drew a few lines on a tablet, and told me that everything would be ‘perfect.’ It felt too clean, too rehearsed. I remember feeling a strange surge of anxiety rather than excitement. Why was it so easy for him to suggest breaking my bones? I walked out and ended up just sitting at a nearby cafe for an hour, looking at my phone and wondering if I was just being vain or if I was actually going to go through with something that sounded this intense. The contrast between the sterile white hallways and the life I was living just felt bizarre.

The reality of the recovery phase

I eventually settled on a clinic that wasn’t the most expensive, but the doctor actually talked to me about the recovery process rather than just the final aesthetic result. He mentioned things like the swelling management and the liquid diet, which honestly sounded like a nightmare. And it was. The first two weeks post-surgery were just a blurry mess of ice packs and trying to swallow lukewarm pumpkin juice. I remember waking up at 3:00 AM unable to breathe properly through my nose, just staring at the ceiling and regretting the entire decision. My face felt like it had been through a car accident, and the tight sensation around my cheeks was constant. I had to sleep upright for nearly a month, which wreaked havoc on my lower back. I didn’t even care about the ‘new face’ anymore; I just wanted to be able to sleep on my side again.

Is the result worth the long wait

It took about six months before the swelling finally settled enough for me to see the real shape. My friends say I look more ‘defined,’ but half the time I can’t tell if it’s the surgery or just because I lost weight from eating nothing but broth for three weeks. Sometimes I look in the mirror and think it was the right choice, but other days I find myself touching my jaw and feeling a weird, phantom numbness that never really went away completely. It’s a very strange trade-off. I have this new facial structure, but I also have this permanent memory of the discomfort and the isolation I felt during those weeks of recovery.

The lingering uncertainty

I keep seeing ads for these new ‘K-beauty packages’ that combine plastic surgery with resort stays, and it makes me feel a bit cynical. They make it look so effortless, like you’re going on a vacation and coming back as a new person. For me, it wasn’t a vacation. It was a long, uncomfortable, and often lonely period of healing. I don’t regret it entirely, but I also don’t feel like some transformed person who suddenly has a better life. I’m just me, with a slightly different jawline and a few scars that only I know about. Sometimes I wonder if I would do it again if I could go back in time to that day at the cafe near the station. I’m honestly still not sure.