What I Tell My Own Family

I want to write this chapter the way I'd talk to my sister over coffee. No clinical framing. No consultation language. Just what I actually say when someone I love asks me what to do.

A lot of what's in this book reflects my professional position, which is necessarily careful and balanced. I have to respect that my readers come from different starting points, different bodies, different priorities. The book has been written for all of them.

This chapter is for the version of you who's sitting across from me as someone I love. It's the conversation I'd have if you were my sister, my mother, my closest friend. Some of what I'll say in this chapter is more direct than the rest of the book. Some of it overlaps with what I've already said. But I want you to hear the unfiltered version once before we close.

What I Tell My Mother

My mother is in her seventies. She's been asking me skincare questions for years. Here's what I tell her.

I tell her to use sunscreen on her face, her neck, and the backs of her hands every morning. She doesn't always remember, and that's okay. I'd rather she put it on most days than feel like a failure on the days she doesn't.

I tell her to wash her face once a day, at night, with a gentle cleanser. Just rinse with water in the morning. Her skin has been through a lot. It doesn't need to be stripped twice a day at this point in her life.

I tell her to use a thick moisturizer twice a day, with ceramides and squalane. Her barrier needs help. Cheap drugstore options are fine. The expensive brands don't outperform CeraVe in any meaningful way for her.

I tell her to use a gentle retinoid two or three nights a week. Not the prescription strength. Not nightly. Just enough to support cell turnover without irritating her skin.

I tell her to drink water, take her vitamin D, and try to walk every day. The vitamin D matters for her bones and her skin. The walking matters for her circulation and her mood, both of which show up on her face.

I tell her not to spend money on the latest miracle creams advertised to women her age. They're marketing to her grief about aging, not delivering anything she needs. The basics work better than the expensive stuff.

I do her Botox occasionally, in small amounts, for the deeper expression lines on her forehead. She likes how it makes her look slightly less worried. We don't overdo it. She still looks like herself. I'd rather see her face move than have her look frozen.

I haven't suggested filler for her. She doesn't ask. Her face has aged naturally and she's beautiful. The thing I want most for her at this age is comfort in her own skin, not chasing youth.

I tell her she's the most beautiful woman I know. She rolls her eyes at me. That's part of why I love her.

What I Tell My Sister

My sister is in her early forties. She has young kids, a demanding job, and not enough time for elaborate routines.

I tell her to keep her routine to five products max. Cleanser, moisturizer, sunscreen in the morning. Retinoid and moisturizer at night. That's it. The simplicity is the strategy.

I tell her to actually wear sunscreen, including on the school run, including when she's just driving to errands. The cumulative sun exposure adds up faster than she realizes.

I tell her to use a real retinoid, not just a fancy serum that claims to be retinol-adjacent. I get her a prescription tretinoin or recommend over-the-counter adapalene. Real ingredients only.