In this guest blog, sexologist Chloe Adriana, one of Comfortable In My Skin’s Recommended Providers, shares her perspective on the rise of plastic surgery.

What I’m about to share might ruffle feathers. It might be uncomfortable. I’ve stayed quiet until now, worried I’d hurt someone or invalidate their choices. But I can’t stay silent any longer.

I have a real problem with the rise of cosmetic surgery being marketed to women and feminine beings of all ages. Every article I open says the same thing: cosmetic surgery is rising fast. In Australia alone, it’s a $1.5 billion industry. An estimated 38% of adults are paying customers.

They say it’s due to normalisation, social media, porn, and even the so-called ‘Zoom Doom’ effect. That constant exposure to our own faces during lockdown fed a wave of self-criticism. Now surgery has become so common it’s everywhere. Not just in Hollywood. It’s in your local Woolies.

What’s most disturbing is the age of the women getting these procedures. 92% of all cosmetic surgery patients are women. And it’s not just the visible tweaks. It’s the surgeries we don’t see.

Labiaplasty is now the fastest-growing cosmetic surgery in Australia. A procedure where parts of the vulva are cut off to look more ‘tidy’ or ‘normal.’ Take that in. Most of these surgeries aren’t for medical reasons. They’re purely cosmetic.

So why do vulva-owners believe they need to change their labia?

Because they’ve been sold a lie. 

I’ve coached women who’ve had labiaplasty. Women who live with pain, loss of sensation, deep regret. Porn taught us that an ‘ideal vulva’ looks small, tucked-in, barely visible. Cosmetic marketing preyed on that myth. But the truth is: most vulvas don’t look like that. Most are asymmetrical, with folds, curves, and stretches. And they’re all beautiful.

But boys raised on porn expect a vulva to match the fantasy. When they see a real one, they recoil. That reaction feeds a shame spiral. Some girls don’t even need direct experience. They hear whispers, see porn, and take scissors to their own vulvas. I’ve heard those stories.

This is where my rage burns. Because it’s our young girls, and the little girl still alive in every woman, who suffer in this profit-fuelled war on our worth. When girls grow up watching mothers, cousins, and influencers get surgery, how can they not absorb the message: I’m not good enough.

The cosmetic industry is turning us into clones. Big lips. Frozen faces. Bleached buttholes. Sliced vulvas. We’re living in a real-life Barbie horror film.

We weren’t born to be the same. We’re meant to be wildly individual.

And yes, some people will say they chose surgery from a place of empowerment. Maybe they did. But I’ve worked with enough women to know that beneath the mask of “empowerment” often lies unworthiness, insecurity, and a deep longing to feel like they belong.

One client was addicted to fake lashes. She spiralled if she didn’t wear them. Together we traced it back to bullying she endured as a teen. Her lashes were armour. Only when she met that inner teen with love could she finally let them go. And you know what? She was breathtaking without them.

I'm pissed off.

As a teen, I felt the pressure to wax, pluck, shave, maintain, and upkeep. Now that list includes Botox, fillers, and surgery. At 27, after weeks in the South African desert without a mirror, I let my hair grow, released the performance, and found freedom. Now, I only engage in beauty rituals that feel good for me.

This isn’t about becoming a hairy hippie. It’s about rejecting the harmful, distorted standards we’ve been force-fed.

And don’t get me started on the cost. Some women are spending $9,000 a month on cosmetic procedures. Imagine how much self-love could be injected with that kind of money. The investment direction is all wrong.

In my dream world, the fastest-growing industry would be self-love. But because that work is hard, meeting your inner teenager and facing your shame, it’s often overlooked.

But that work is the revolution. It’s the refusal to play into capitalism’s lie that we’re not enough. It’s the awakening from social media’s distortion. It’s the rebellion against sameness.

Our individuality is our power. Our sanity. Our sanctuary.

So I’ll say it again:

Invest in self-love. Not surgery.

*To all my sisters who’ve had surgery and feel proud, this post isn’t for you.
To those who regret it, I see you. I’m here for you. Loving yourself post-surgery is still self-love. That path is always open to you.

By sexologist Chloe Adriana, one of Comfortable In My Skin’s Recommended Providers. C hloe’s passion is to guide people to embody their full, unapologetic, radiant potential by weaving education, somatic expression, emotional sovereignty and the power of pleasure. Work with her here.