I’m a woman and a plastic surgeon. This is what beauty means to me.
When I introduce myself as a plastic surgeon, I am often greeted with surprise. Between the slightly quizzical looks, the concerned head tilts, and the explicit queries, the question is clear: How could a woman of substance find herself in that line of work?
The truth is that real plastic surgery (in my world, at least) is nothing like its media representations. The nipped and tucked patients with outlandish requests, the …





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