I wish I knew I should have started a dedicated “surgery fund” at 18 instead of spending money on trivial things.
The Wasted Capital of Youth
At 18, I got my first job and spent every penny on video games, takeout, and clothes I don’t even remember. I think about that wasted capital now and it makes me sick. I wish I had known then to open a separate investment account called my “Aesthetic Fund” and automatically transfer 20% of every paycheck into it. The power of a decade of compound interest on that money would have meant I could have afforded any procedure I wanted by my late twenties, instead of starting from scratch.
I wish I knew how to research international surgeons when I was just looking at local options.
The Local Pond vs. the Global Ocean
When I first considered surgery, I just Googled “plastic surgeons near me.” I was limiting my search to the small, local pond. The options were fine, but uninspiring. I wish I had known then how to properly vet international surgeons. Learning how to navigate online forums, read foreign-language reviews, and schedule virtual consultations with world-renowned specialists in places like Turkey or South Korea would have opened my eyes. I was fishing in a pond when I should have been hunting for whales in the global ocean of talent.
I wish I knew that my appearance was an investment with a higher ROI than my 401k when I was starting to work.
The Slow Drip vs. the Life-Changing Leap
When I started my first job, all the advice was to max out my 401k. I dutifully put my money into an index fund for that steady, slow-drip 8% return. I wish I had known that investing that same money into my appearance would have yielded a far greater return. A single procedure to fix a major insecurity would have given me the confidence to get a better job, a more attractive partner, and a better social life. My 401k will help me retire at 65; my “face fund” improved my entire life, today.
I wish I knew the power of medical loans for accelerating my transformation when I was trying to save up slowly.
The Agony of Waiting
I spent three years of my mid-twenties slowly saving up for a procedure. It was an agonizing wait. I was putting my life on hold, waiting for my bank account to catch up to my ambition. I wish I had understood the strategic power of debt then. Taking out a low-interest medical loan would have allowed me to get the procedure done immediately. The small cost of interest would have been a tiny price to pay to avoid three years of insecurity and to start reaping the benefits of my transformation sooner.
I wish I knew I should have chosen a career path that would easily fund my hardmaxxing goals when I was in college.
The Passion Project vs. the Funding Engine
In college, I followed my “passion” and got a degree in a field I loved, but one that had very low earning potential. I spent my twenties struggling to afford the aesthetic procedures I desperately wanted. I wish I had been more strategic. I should have viewed my career as a funding engine for my primary goal: self-optimization. I would have chosen a less passionate but far more lucrative field like tech sales or coding, knowing that a few years of high income could fund a lifetime of looking my best.
I wish I knew how to properly plan for a long recovery period when I was starting to research procedures.
The “Week Off” Fallacy
When I was first researching surgery, the websites all said “recovery time: 1-2 weeks.” I took that at face value. I wish I had known the reality. A full recovery isn’t just about being able to go back to your desk job; it’s about swelling, bruising, and activity restrictions that can last for months. I would have saved up a full year of my paid time off, arranged to work from home for longer, and had a much more realistic and stress-free healing process if I had known the truth.
I wish I knew that I should budget for revisions and not just the initial surgery cost.
The Cost of Perfection
When I got my first surgery, I thought the initial price was the final price. I was wrong. Over the next few years, I realized that achieving perfection often requires small tweaks and revisions. I wish I had known from the start that the initial procedure is just the first installment. I should have budgeted an extra 20-30% of the cost for potential future revisions. It would have saved me a lot of financial stress and allowed me to pursue perfection without compromise.
I wish I knew how to negotiate prices with clinics by offering to pay in cash when I was starting out.
The Sticker Price vs. the Real Price
The first time I paid for a procedure, I just accepted the price I was quoted and put it on a payment plan. I was a novice. I wish I had known the power of walking into a consultation with the ability to pay in full, in cash. I later learned to say, “This is my budget. I can pay the entire amount today in cash. What is the best possible price you can give me?” It’s amazing how much flexibility clinics have when they can avoid credit card fees and financing risks.
I wish I knew that a few years of extreme frugality could pay for a lifetime of being attractive.
The Short-Term Sacrifice for the Permanent Reward
In my early twenties, I lived a “balanced” life. I went out with friends, took small vacations, and bought things I didn’t need. As a result, my savings were minimal. I wish I had understood the power of extreme, targeted frugality. If I had lived like a monk for just two years—roommates, no eating out, no new clothes—I could have saved enough money to pay for a complete physical overhaul. A short-term sacrifice would have yielded a permanent, lifelong reward of looking my absolute best.
I wish I knew that I should have viewed my body as a business and my procedures as capital expenditures from day one.
The CEO of Me, Inc.
When I was younger, I thought of surgery as a personal, emotional decision. I wish I had adopted a colder, more strategic mindset from the beginning. I should have viewed myself as “Me, Inc.” My body was my company’s primary asset. My procedures were not frivolous expenses; they were capital expenditures designed to increase the value and marketability of my brand. This CEO mindset would have removed all the guilt and emotion, allowing me to make more rational, ambitious, and profitable decisions about my own life.