She Didn’t Cry Over the Vows… She Cried Over the Photos
Sara didn’t want Instagram cheeks. She wasn’t chasing a “Love Island forehead.”
She just wanted to look like herself—but less shattered.
She walked in 6 weeks before her wedding, gripping a selfie like it had betrayed her and whispered:
“I just want to feel proud of how I look… not duck behind the camera.”
Subtle tweak to the frown. A lift tear trough filler. Job done.
No tears in clinic.
But on her wedding day?
She sent me a message that said:
“Every photo… I loved them all. Not one bad angle. I felt like Beyoncé in a white dress.”
Let me be clear:
She didn’t mention G-prime or Botox units. She didn’t ask about cross-linking. She didn’t care what needle I used.
What mattered was that moment. That mirror. That memory.
Here’s the bit most injectors mess up:
They post charts.
They list product specs.
They write like they’re applying for a PhD, not trying to connect with a real, terrified human who’s been avoiding her own selfies for three years.
Nobody books a £350 treatment because of your “hydration capacity” post.
They book because you told a story that made them feel SEEN.
She saw herself in Sara.
She saw hope.
And she thought, “maybe I can feel like that too.”
That’s why STORIES SELL and FACTS TELL.
Facts come after they’ve bought into the emotion—not before.
So next time you post?
Don’t lead with the spec sheet.
Lead with the camera-off Zoom calls.
Lead with the “I hate how I look in pictures” confession.
Lead with the story arc:
Anxious in the chair → subtle transformation → strutting down the aisle like she owns the bloody venue.
That’s what sticks.
That’s what sells.
That’s what builds trust—not your certificates, not your sterile jargon.
