I've Spent Decades Perfecting My Skincare Routine — Then My 12-Year-Old Took Over And Snatched My Face (In A Good Way)

Yahoo

17-05-2025

I've spent more time (and money) on skincare than on most major life decisions. In the '90s, I was a Noxzema warrior, drying my acne into submission with alcohol-soaked pads and slathering on drugstore foundation so thick I practically needed a putty knife to apply it.
Fast-forward to my 40s: I've earned my Sephora Rouge status like a badge of honor and have tried every serum, tool, and buzzy skincare device that promises to reverse aging and erase the evidence of my 20s and 30s (okay, also my early 40s). My bathroom cabinet is the skincare equivalent of an Ulta and a mad scientist's love child.
And then my 12-year-old daughter took over.
She's in seventh grade, has watched approximately 1.2 million TikTok beauty tutorials, and is what I now refer to as my in-house esthetician. Her obsession with skincare began innocently enough. One gua sha stone and a YouTube rabbit hole later, and she's now running a full-service spa out of her bedroom. I'm the nightly client, and I can honestly tell you that it has changed me in ways that go beyond skin-deep.
Every evening, she invites me in, turns on soothing spa music (courtesy of Spotify's "Zen Vibes" playlist), and gets to work. She lines up her serums and rollers like a tiny, very determined cosmetologist. My face is massaged with a jade roller she convinced her dad to buy "for optimal product absorption," which has been chilling in the mini-fridge.
And yes, her dad is also a devoted client. He practically handed her his credit card and said, "Get whatever you need, doc." He sees it like this: there are only so many connection points a father can make with his tween daughter. Besides their dry sense of humor and unnaturally long eyelashes (I'm not in the least bit jealous), they don't have a whole lot in common at this stage in life. But bonding over nightly skincare rituals has become an opportunity for both of us to connect with her.
During treatments, she'll gently scold her dad for skipping sunscreen and praise my "snatched jawline" with the confidence of a Real Housewife. She once told me I "give good face," and honestly, I'm not sure I've ever received a more affirming compliment. I'm not entirely sure what that means, but I'll take it.
Here's what I didn't expect: letting my daughter take the skincare reins has taught me more than all the dermatologists and beauty influencers combined. Here are a few things I've learned along this skincare journey with my tween:
Skincare is a form of self-respect.
When I was her age, I was trying to fix my face. I was applying the harshest ingredients the drugstore sold to dampen the embarrassment of showing up to school with pimples. My daughter is trying to honor her face. She applies her serums like they're sacred and takes pride in the process, not because she's trying to look different, but because she likes herself. She's not fighting her skin; she's celebrating it. Watching her approach to skincare has made me kinder to my own reflection.
The TikTok skincare academy is no joke.
My daughter can pronounce "niacinamide" and explain the difference between chemical and physical exfoliants better than I can explain how to use the camera on my phone. She's basically a licensed esthetician, minus the license and the overhead costs. I can only imagine what she'll be capable of once she discovers the baking side of TikTok.
Bonding with a tween is a rare and precious gift — even if it involves being lectured on hyaluronic acid.
Let's be real: middle schoolers aren't exactly known for being chatty with their parents. But during our nightly skincare sessions, she opens up. We talk about school, friends, the occasional boy drama, and which facial mist gives the most "main character energy." It's become our little ritual. One I treasure more than any anti-aging serum.
We're building confidence, one jade roller stroke at a time.
My daughter has taught me that skincare isn't just about looking good. It's about feeling good, taking time for yourself, and believing you're worth the effort. That lesson landed better coming from her soft, lotion-slicked hands than from a $300 cream promising the same thing. When I browse the aisles at Sephora these days, I think less about how a product will erase the age spots from my face and more about how good it will feel to spend a few minutes each day nurturing the skin that has weathered the decades with me.
Trends come and go, but sunscreen is eternal.
I once thought tanning was a rite of passage. My daughter, horrified, has made it her mission to undo decades of sun sins. She treats sunscreen like a sacred pact with the future, and now I do too. If youth is wasted on the young, at least she's doing her best to preserve hers, and maybe save what's left of mine.
Playfulness is a powerful anti-aging tool.
Nothing smooths fine lines like laughing through a face mask with your kid. Watching her smear green goo on her cheeks while telling me about who 'might be dating but it's not official' is better than any LED light therapy. Somewhere between the serums and silliness, I remembered how good it feels to play.
Taking care of yourself doesn't have to be a solo project.
I used to see skincare as a private pursuit — a late-night battle between me and my pores. But letting someone else in, literally and emotionally, shifted everything. In her hands, skincare became a shared ritual. A space where vulnerability and Vitamin C coexist. And that, more than any product, has made me glow.
These days, my skin glows not just because of the serums, but because of the hands that apply them. I get to lie back and be cared for by someone I once taught how to hold a spoon. Now she's teaching me how to love the face I have.
If you had told 17-year-old me that one day my middle school daughter would be the skincare guru I never knew I needed, I would've laughed you out of the drugstore aisle. But here we are, and honestly, I've never felt more radiant.
(Also, if anyone at Sephora corporate is reading this, she deserves her own affiliate code.)