It was my best friend’s 21st birthday and we booked a five-day break in Cyprus. We wanted to get as glam as we could in advance, so we went clothes shopping and got our hair done, and I decided to get some under-eye filler. It’s also known as tear trough filler, and I’d never had it done before.
It was a quick way to look refreshed, I thought, and I’d seen tons of girls on Instagram getting it. I already had filler in my cheeks, lips, chin, and jawline, and had injections of Botox all the time, so it was no big deal. I found a lady on Instagram. She had loads of followers and had done cosmetic work on a few of my friends which had turned out fine. I thought, “Let’s go with her” – she also had some good Christmas deals.
A few days after my injection of filler, though, my face was swollen and there was a pain below my right eye. I didn’t worry. You tend to get a bit of swelling after fillers. I assumed it was normal. But then I couldn’t sleep because it was so uncomfortable. I did a video call with the woman who’d treated me – she didn’t have any medical qualifications, but I think she’d done a course. She assured me it would settle down. She’d also topped up my lips and Botox with no issues.
Once I got on the plane to Cyprus, my face started hurting badly. It felt hard and tight. I’d never felt anything like it. The pressure made me feel like my face was going to explode. It became unbearable – my eye became swollen and was closing over. I looked such a state. A flight attendant brought me an ice pack to put on my face.
After we got to the hotel, I noticed there was a little spot on my cheek – I tried to squeeze it, but nothing came out. I soldiered on as I didn’t want to ruin my friend’s birthday. I stuck on loads of makeup and we went out clubbing one night – me with a mashed-up face. But soon the pain was agony. I headed to a hospital in Cyprus. There was a language barrier and communication was hard – the doctor didn’t really understand what tear trough filler was. He thought it might have just been an allergy, so he gave me some painkillers.
The rest of the holiday I spent by the pool in tears, or checking my puffed-up face and eye in the mirror to see if it was getting worse – which it was. I only had a few more days to get through before I would be home, though. I knew something was terribly wrong. The pain tripled as I flew home and I couldn’t see out of my right eye properly. As soon as we landed back in London, I dropped my suitcase at my house in south London and went directly to my nearest A&E.
I had to wait for hours with my big coat and sunglasses on. I was sitting there much longer than others who weren’t in half as much pain. I think there was a stigma attached to the fact I’d done this to myself by having filler, but I felt like I was in as much pain as somebody who had broken their arm or leg.
They eventually sent me home with antibiotics – it looked like an infection. But the next day I rang 111 sobbing. “I’m going to die!” I shouted. I couldn’t just sit there and deal with it. Nothing was helping – not even the painkillers. They told me to go back to A&E. I went back and forth about four times – at times screaming, “Just cut open up my face, I don’t care if I have a scar, just get out the puss!”
I beat myself up. It was all my fault. I’d spent hundreds of pounds trying to look perfect and now I looked like a horror show
On the final visit to A&E, my cheek popped open in triage – and puss started pouring out of my face. The smell of it was foul. I called my grandma who came to the hospital to be with me. I was terrified. The doctors finally started to take me seriously. About 20 minutes later I was in a surgery room. He numbed my face and made an incision, so there was a little slit in my cheek where it had already ruptured.
The team started squeezing out the puss. I was left with a big gooey hole like a crater. It was disgusting. I thought: “This is how my face is going to look forever – I’m going to need plastic surgery.” I beat myself up. It was all my fault. I’d spent hundreds of pounds trying to look perfect and now I looked like a horror show. Afterwards, I wore a massive patch that covered a quarter of my face on the right side and I had to keep changing the dressing. They told me I was lucky the infection hadn’t got into my eye.
It took about five to six months for it to fully heal. I was left with a dent and a scar on my face and I didn’t really want to go out – or go to work. But after about nine months of putting oil on the scar, it’s now hardly noticeable unless I point it out.
I didn’t have fillers for a few months afterwards, just because I wanted to let that side of my face rest. But once it was better, I decided to go back to them. I won’t ever get tear trough filler again, but I do everything else. I knew that I had to get over my fear of fillers, or else give it up forever. For me, it didn’t feel like a possibility – I love how fillers make me look.
What happened to me would have put a lot of people off filler for life. People said I was addicted to them. But since I got a scar, I need to even out that area with cheek filler. Every six months I get top-ups for my lips, chin and jawline too – and Botox every two to three months because mine wears off.
I’ve been getting filler and Botox since I was 18, and they make me feel confident. I do sunbeds as well. They enhance my features and make my face look more symmetrical. People say I’m stupid for still doing it. My family thinks it’s wrong, but I don’t listen. It’s what all my friends do and it’s advertised all over social media.
What does the future hold? In the next two years, I really want a nose job. From my side profile, I just don’t like the little hump. I want it to have a slope instead. I know you can get nose filler, but I want something permanent. I have Invisalign but I want to get composite bonding after I’ve finished with them. When I’m older and after I’ve had children, I’d like to get a boob job. There is real pressure about how we look because of social media and TV shows where everyone is beautiful – but if it makes me happy, why would I stop?
