Midlife Women

Nadia Sindhu Satya

I got my first set of eyelash extensions a few weeks ago, and within a couple of weeks they had all fallen out despite religiously following the aftercare instructions. I attributed their premature shedding to an inexperienced stylist, so when I returned for my second set a week later, I chose a different style — “the fox eye” — with the same technician, who was determined to make them stay this time.

For me, the procedure was uncomfortable, and afterward, I had trouble keeping my eyes fully open. The weight of the lashes felt heavy, their length seemed excessive, and I found myself staring in the mirror wondering if I looked better or simply ridiculous. Why was I spending considerable money to have my eyelids feel weighted down and uncomfortable, only to look “too made up” and unnatural? I went home and attempted to scrub them off, but they weren’t budging. The next day at work, my colleagues said I looked “beautiful.” It struck me as strange — can you look beautiful if you appear ready to perform in a vaudeville show?

The Rich History of Enhanced Beauty

The pursuit of enhanced beauty through cosmetics stretches back millennia. Ancient Egyptians were pioneers in this realm, using kohl made from lead sulfide and antimony to dramatically line their eyes — not merely for vanity, but believing it provided protection from the evil eye and had medicinal properties. Egyptian women and men alike used elaborate eye makeup, with formulations that included crushed beetles, ant eggs, and various minerals. This tradition of eye enhancement spread across cultures: ancient Greeks used ash and charcoal, Romans employed antimony, and across Asia, various plant-based dyes and minerals were used to accentuate the eyes.

The concept of artificial lashes specifically began much later. The modern false eyelash was invented by filmmaker D.W. Griffith in 1916 to make actress Seena Owen’s eyes appear strikingly dramatic on screen. In the 1920s-1930s, wealthy women who could afford this beauty enhancement incorporated it into their arsenals alongside flapper dresses. By the mid-1900s, synthetic materials made lashes more affordable and popular, though interestingly, the 1970s and 1980s saw a trend toward the “natural look,” causing lashes to fall out of favor.

We can thank South Korean and Japanese innovators who developed individual lash extensions in the early 2000s — different from strip lashes, these involved using medical-grade adhesive to attach individual synthetic fibers to natural lashes. Then came the Instagram era, where influencers like Kim Kardashian further popularized the ideal of dramatic, phone-camera-ready looks for both eyebrows and eyelashes.

The Spectrum of Lash Extension Styles

Modern lash extensions offer an extensive range of looks, each created through specific techniques, curl patterns, and placement strategies:

Natural Enhancement: Uses shorter, varying lengths of extensions (8–12mm) with subtle J or B curls, applied to mimic the natural lash pattern. This creates volume while maintaining a believable, everyday look.

Classic Full: Employs a one-to-one ratio of extensions to natural lashes using slightly longer lengths (10–14mm) with C curls for more definition while remaining wearable for professional settings.

Volume Sets: Utilize ultra-fine extensions applied in fans of 2–8 lashes per natural lash, creating dramatic fullness. These can range from “soft volume” for enhanced natural beauty to “mega volume” for special occasions.

The Fox Eye: Places longer extensions on the outer corners with upward-angled application, creating an elongated, sultry appearance that mimics the effect of a subtle eye lift.

The Doll Eye: Features the longest extensions at the center of the eye, creating a wide-eyed, innocent appearance reminiscent of vintage dolls.

Cat Eye: Similar to fox eye but with more dramatic contrast, using shorter inner corner lashes and increasingly longer outer corner extensions.

Open Eye: Strategically places longer extensions at specific points to create the illusion of larger, more open eyes.

I experienced only two styles — initially a more natural approach that didn’t hold, followed by the fox eye, which proved too dramatic for my comfort level and lifestyle.

A Physician’s Concern: The Critical Functions of Our Natural Lashes

As a physician, I feel compelled to address the health implications of manipulating the delicate eye area. Our eyelashes and eyelids serve crucial protective functions that extend far beyond aesthetics. Natural eyelashes act as the first line of defense against airborne particles, dust, and debris. They trigger the blink reflex when touched, protecting the cornea from foreign objects. The eyelids themselves contain specialized glands that produce oils essential for tear film stability and eye lubrication.

When we apply extensions, we’re essentially altering this sophisticated protective system. Concerns include:

Infection Risks: The application process introduces foreign materials near the eye. Poor sanitation, contaminated adhesives, or unsterile tools can lead to bacterial infections, styes, or folliculitis.

Mechanical Damage: Extensions that are too heavy can cause traction alopecia — permanent loss of natural lashes due to prolonged pulling. Improper placement too close to the lid margin can cause chronic irritation.

Allergic Reactions: Many adhesives contain formaldehyde-releasing compounds that can cause contact dermatitis, swelling, and in severe cases, chemical burns.

Compromised Natural Function: Heavy or improperly placed extensions can interfere with normal blinking patterns and tear distribution, potentially leading to dry eye syndrome.

Chemical Exposure: The solvents used in adhesives and removers can cause conjunctival irritation if they come into contact with the eye surface.

The fundamental truth we must remember is that vision is precious — our ability to see clearly and comfortably should never be compromised for cosmetic enhancement.

Personal Reflection: The Instagram Reality vs. Life

What struck me most was the disconnect between photogenic appeal and lived experience. My pictures undoubtedly looked better with the extensions, but the in-person reality felt quite different — embarrassingly artificial, in fact. I recalled a senior mentor from my medical residency whom patients referred to as “fancy.” She was naturally attractive and wore full makeup to work daily, somehow pulling off the polished look authentically. However, we’ve all encountered women who, perhaps not blessed with such natural gifts, simply appear to be trying too hard, their preoccupation with appearance on full display.

When I looked in the mirror, despite wearing no other makeup, I saw someone trying too hard, someone focused on shallow pursuits. I didn’t see “confident as I age gracefully despite thinning lashes” or “comfortable with natural beauty — which is beautiful precisely because it’s natural.”

I kept attempting to wash off the adhesive securing these lashes to my upper eyelids, but they were firmly attached. My technician had clearly been determined to prevent another premature loss, which, ironically, worked against me. Whether the issue was placement (possibly too close to the lid margin), excessive weight and length for my eye shape, or simply my discomfort with the unnatural appearance, the truth remained: I felt uncomfortable in my own skin.

The Deeper Truth About Aging and Relevance

The reality is that I am an aging woman, and it’s difficult not to feel invisible or irrelevant at times — this is simply part of the human experience. But perhaps the answer isn’t found in artificial enhancements that make us uncomfortable or compromise our health. Instead, maybe we need to cultivate relationships with people who value us for who we are, weathered though we may be. To some people — the ones who truly matter — we will be beautiful regardless of our lash length, wrinkle depth, or adherence to current beauty trends. But I also understand people who use enhancements to just get to a normal (those who have lost all their hair from chemotherapy treatments, or all their nails from medications, or their breasts from cancer for example ) and for them , I applaud all that they do for themselves to feel whole. And to those women who put on their lashes and feel like a million bucks, cheers! Keep on , keep on!

The pursuit of beauty is ancient and cross-cultural, deeply embedded in human nature. From Egyptian kohl to modern lash extensions, we’ve always sought ways to enhance our appearance. But as both a physician and a woman navigating the complexities of aging in a youth-obsessed culture, I believe we must weigh the costs — financial, physical, and emotional — against the benefits. Sometimes, the most radical act of beauty is simply being comfortable in our own skin, artificial enhancements aside.

Our eyes are meant to see clearly, our lashes to protect them, and our authentic selves to shine through — extensions optional.

Hitting the gym….and taking the rest.

As I wake up in the morning, my arms talk to me. There’s an ache and sometimes a twinge. As I curl to the side and my foot tries to find the floor, a new ache says hello at the back of my legs. I had this vision of myself always being fairly active and doing yoga regularly, but I realized I was basically a weakling once I started at a local gym.

Brittina, in her solid 5-foot frame, could lift weights far heavier than I saw men do. She effortlessly jump-roped, deadlifted, bench-pressed, and back-squatted HEAVY weights, and did pull-ups, burpees, and so much more. Then there was Alexa, a young woman who, in her curvy, trim frame, shocked me as she pulled a 100-pound load around the gym. Tina was an older woman, but she was right there, disciplined in the game like the rest of them, as her body turned from peach to red. These badass women of all ages were moving in ways that I didn’t think were humanly possible.

Inspiration. Yes, in its most awesome sense. The gym is unconventional in that the husband-and-wife team of instructors writes a tailored workout on a dry-erase board that varies each day. There’s a warm-up, then a couple of sequences with various reps. They monitor like personal trainers, making sure form and technique are good. As a kid, I played tennis and swam — being a Floridian and all — but as an adult, my “exercise” was yoga or a walk/jog with my dog. I had never been a weightlifter.

As yoga sculpt started showing up in my yoga studios and my younger son found jujitsu, I began to be exposed to the world of lifting weights. Nicholas would tell me, “Mom, you can do yoga all you want, but if you want to build muscle — which is what you really need to keep yourself truly fit — you need to get some weights and start with barbell training.” From the mouth of babes. He’s not exactly a baby, being 22 and all, but he’s a solid rock, just like many of the chiseled bodies of the young gym-goers. But it’s the super cool middle-aged and older men and women who show up week after week and sweat it out that I feel a deep-seated connection with — a type of tribe as they call it at The Kor. We nod, give each other high-fives, and smile knowingly.

As I saw my father lose so much of his muscle mass while he beat prostate cancer and had to take Lupron, and as I watched my mother develop osteoporosis, I wanted to start a program of weight training to preserve and enhance my muscle mass and keep my bone density solid. I started with just showing up and getting in the sauna, then doing some of the warm-up. Then one day, Brittina was working as a staff member at the gym, and I was the only one obviously needing guidance. She did the warm-up with me and then moved on to the “main workout” — the whole part of the board that I had conveniently ignored, literally blanked out of my vision. With a workout partner not letting me cheat, she was my coach and cheerleader simultaneously. That day, I walked out of the gym and swaggered to my car with a post-gym high that would keep me showing up.

But as  per usual with me, the idea of “appropriate recovery” time battled with my concept of habit and routine every day. “But Kris at work goes to her gym every day,” I pleaded with my friend Scott. “Yes, but Nadia, she’s been doing that practically her whole life.” Oh, the details.

Having paid for monthly memberships at both the yoga studio and the gym, I had this misguided notion that I needed to make the most of my membership with a daily ritual. So on it went, with my back hurting and my arms sore. It actually took me struggling in a simple yoga class — a class that I used to do so easily and that made me feel amazing before, during, and after — for it to dawn on me that I wasn’t letting my body recover enough. I was trying to sprint instead of planning for the marathon, typical of my Type A personality with no patience. I was taxing my body. My mind was there, but my body wasn’t. It seems probably so obvious to most, especially those “athletic types” that spend their life keenly aware fo their limits and how to make sure you give time to rest as integral to muscle building. I’m even a doctor, but making rookie mistakes in the drive that are like blinders.

I’m still figuring out how to rein myself in and am still deeply committed to incorporating weights, but I’m trying to listen to my body more. The identity of a physically strong woman had never been an iconic symbol for me before — beauty was defined by being slim, having nice hair, nails, and dress. But now I have a different image: strong and agile, solidly peaceful  and confident.

So I’ve put myself on a two-day-a-week gym schedule and a five-day-a-week yoga schedule, trying to incorporate a little dance and swimming for fun. There’s still some “good ache” hanging around — still figuring that out — but the good news is, I’m staying in the game.

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