I'm 32 and can't decide whether to get Botox. Will I regret not getting it in the 'undetectable' era of beauty, when people look inexplicably ageless?

• Business Insider health writer Rachel Hosie struggle to decide whether to get Botox for her wedding.
• She said the decision was made harder by the rise of "undetectable" beauty treatments.
• People increasingly look inexplicably ageless, setting what she sees as even less attainable beauty standards.

Getting engaged a year ago was one of the most special and exciting moments of my life.

But wedding planning has come with some tricky decisions: Should I change my name? Is "Mr Brightside" an acceptable first dance song? And should I get Botox for the first time?

I've changed my mind endlessly: perhaps I'll get just a little something to smooth out the lines that, as a 32-year-old woman, have appeared on my forehead in recent years. "No, actually, I won't," I think.

For every sister-in-law warning against the "weird, shiny texture" Botox can give skin, a gym-mate encourages me to do it because I "won't look back."

I worry that Botox will become yet another expense alongside the mani-pedis, hair coloring, and waxing that are quietly expected of women to live up to patriarchal beauty standards, but my feminist principles are what are really causing me to hesitate.

While some men increasingly feel the pressure to look young, the scrutiny women — particularly those in the public eye — face is unrivaled. By erasing those signs of life, would I be part of the problem in a society that, as Anne-Mette Hermans, who studies the sociology of cosmetic procedures, told me, puts on women "a penalty on looking older"?

Deciding whether to get antiaging treatments like Botox isn't a new problem. Still, it feels harder to avoid as aesthetic treatments and surgeries become more subtle and less detectable and, in turn, make everyone look inexplicably ageless — setting even less attainable beauty standards.

I know that women are valued for looking young

Christine Hall, an aesthetic doctor at London's Taktouk Clinic, told me that since the COVID pandemic, skincare has replaced makeup as the aesthetic focus for many women and girls. This reflects a shift from the heavily made-up look of the mid-2010s — with many celebrities revealing they've had filler removed — toward looking "natural" and effortless.

Of course, by "natural," we mean young.

I've never worn a lot of makeup and am happy to go out and about bare-faced, so I was pleased that societal expectations changed. But the focus shifting from makeup to antiaging just as my first wrinkles appeared made me feel uneasy.

Antiaging has been big business for centuries, as Western cultures traditionally value women for beauty and fertility, which are seen as synonymous with youth. These ideals followed women when they entered the workforce in greater numbers.

"A beautiful appearance, especially for women, can definitely lead to advantages on the relationship market, but also in terms of jobs, in terms of promotions, in terms of so many different things," Hermans, an assistant professor studying cosmetic procedures at the School of Social and Behavioral Sciences at Tilburg University in the Netherlands, said.

Psychologists point to a phenomenon called the "halo effect," where people unconsciously assume an attractive person has positive traits, such as trustworthiness and intelligence. A 2021 study from researchers at the University of Buffalo found that people perceived as attractive "are more likely to get hired, receive better evaluations, and get paid more."

So wanting to cling to our youth makes sense, and I don't shame anyone for having treatments like Botox.

After the FDA approved Botox for cosmetic use in 2002, Gen X started the trend of facial "tweakments" in earnest. It was taken to new heights by millennials amid the rise of social media and filters that made them appear wrinkle-free. The Kardashian-esque "Instagram face" quickly became ubiquitous.

Now, increasing numbers of Gen Zers are getting "baby Botox" in their 20s in the hope of preventing wrinkles. (Some practitioners, however, won't administer Botox to line-free faces as it can actually make people look older and, if done incorrectly, lead to muscle atrophy and sagging).

While the US has tighter regulations around cosmetic treatments than some countries, it's remarkably easy in the UK, where I'm from, to find someone who will administer Botox — whether at a "home salon" or your dentist.

"The idea of tweaking things in your own body and especially the face, it's become far, far more normalized," Hermans said.

Gen Alpha, children born after 2010, is seemingly set to continue down the same path, with the emergence of "Sephora kids" who are as young as 10 and save their pocket money to buy expensive antiaging products they don't need.

"When I was 16 or 17, it was all about blue eyeshadow and putting on as much foundation as possible. And now obviously the trend is kids wanting Drunk Elephant products and acids on their skin," Hall told me.

Commenting more widely on beauty trends, Hall added: "Nobody wants to wear makeup. Everyone wants to have natural, glowing skin." At the same time, aesthetic treatments are "much more acceptable now," she said.

This combination has in part ushered in what's dubbed the "undetectable" era of beauty. In recent months, the faces of Lindsay Lohan, 38, and Christina Aguilera, 44, have been the subjects of online fascination because they suddenly looked dramatically younger without the tell-tale signs of cosmetic treatments.

For the average person who doesn't have the same resources as celebrities, this presents a paradox between wanting the result of treatments to look natural while also making enough of a difference to justify the price tag.

Earlier this year, I tried what I had hoped would be the holy grail of antiaging treatments: "microtox," for a hefty cost of £495 ($657).

Popular in Korea but relatively new in the West, diluted Botox is injected into the skin's surface rather than muscles, preventing a frozen-looking face.

I hoped my skin would be wrinkle-free while maintaining all movement and expression. While my skin glowed, the effect on my fine lines was negligible and wore off over a couple of months.

So, when I look at photos of myself in the run-up to my wedding and wince at my forehead lines, I think, sure, Botox may be contributing to low self-esteem among women, but we can't change the world overnight.

If everyone else is giving in and walking around with shiny, smooth foreheads, maybe I should, too?

I want to look like myself at my wedding

It's now less than six months until my wedding, and considering most people get Botox every three to six months, I've nearly run out of time to do a trial run.

Hermans told me that a big predictor of whether someone will get any kind of aesthetic treatment is whether those in their social circle have done so. None of my close friends have had Botox — yet.

For now, I've decided not to get Botox.

While I may have crinkles and lines on my face, I also know who I am, which I was still working out a decade ago. My face looks like me, lines included. Just as my muscle definition reflects my love of strength training, my forehead lines reflect that I've embraced life.

I still have moments where I catch my reflection in harsh lighting or an action shot photo and don't like what I see. But perhaps reframing how I think about my looks is the answer, not Botox. After all, trying to "fix" everything you dislike about your appearance is an expensive path to go down.

When I'm smiling at my new husband on our wedding day, I want him and everyone else to be able to see my joy — forehead wrinkles and all.