I got a facial (for the first time in my life)

. 2 min read

In my never-ending project of breaking my inner limiting beliefs and unconscious fears, I went ahead and made an appointment for a facial. Lymphatic therapy, to be exact. I made the reservation in a hurry so as to not chicken out of it - so hurrily in fact that I completely forgot to check if the therapy was for the face or for the body. (Apparently, I could choose, and I chose face, hence the title of the article.)

What's more, I had plenty of time to enjoy a glass of champagne beforehand to calm my nerves, but decided not to, as this was supposed to challenge my inner belief system and shatter my unconscious fears, and to do that effectively, it's always better to be stone cold sober.

Anyway, to the appointment:

I was early, as was instructed, and made myself ready. I was wearing a two-piece bathing suit and a bathrobe. I waited in the lounge area for about five minutes, doing breathing exercises. Then the masseuse came and called my name.

As this was my first time, I had no idea what to expect.

She led me to the room, checked with me about what I wanted, and showed me where I could hang the robe and where I should lie down. I did as instructed and lay down on the table and covered myself up to the armpits with a blanket.  She placed a cloth on my eyes in the beginning while she was working on my shoulders and neck. After that, she moved on to my face, removing the cloth as she did.

Simply put, her method was to press on different spots of my lymphatic system in pulses, moving from shoulders to neck to face, including the nose, cheeks, chin, forehead. I was quite nervous at first, but then my body relaxed, much like when I meditate.

When she was finished, she asked how I was feeling and if I had any questions. I told her that she did a wonderful job. After standing up I also asked her if it was normal that I felt a little dizzy. She said that it was - after all, she had lowered my blood pressure. (I had to sit down and had a cup of tea for a moment.)

When the dizziness had passed, I took a couple of cold plunges and spent some time in the steam room in the accompanying spa.

Finally, I returned to the dressing room and check in the mirror if I looked any different. I had expected to look the opposite of bloated, which was not the case, but that could've been because I wasn't bloated to begin with. What I did notice was that my skin looked very even. I had washed my face beforehand, and now, reapplying the concealer, I wondered why I was doing it, since it didn't seem to make any difference at all.

So perhaps the whole thing actually did something! After all, it wasn't exactly cheap.

Perhaps what I paid for was not the lymph nodes, nor the even skin tone, nor the spa addendums. Perhaps I paid for the shattering of the limiting beliefs and unconscious fears.

(The masseuse also told me that they can do the same thing for the entire body. I admit, this intrigues me a little. Should I do it?)

(Somehow my shirt had also gotten whiter during the experience. Or perhaps my photoreceptors had changed?)