I started getting Botox in my mid-20s, and now that I'm 39, I'm so glad I did

I won a gift card for free Botox when I was 25 and have been getting preventive treatments ever since. At 39, I look younger than my age.

• I won a gift card for free Botox when I was 25 and I almost didn't use it. 
• But I made the appointment and I loved the subtle results.
• I've continued getting Botox for over a decade and I'm so glad I started in the first place.

"She doesn't even have wrinkles!" someone shouted.

I sheepishly accepted the gift card and proceeded to hide in the corner. I was in a crowded room at an event at a local spa, sipping my bubbly while excited middle-aged women screamed with delight over free chemical peels and micro-needling. (No judgment, I am that middle-aged woman today!)

I was 25, and I was holding a gift card for 50 units of Botox. I felt ridiculous.

"I don't need this," I thought.

I thought it was too early for me to get Botox

I figured I'd eventually get Botox one day, but in my mid-20s?! That seemed preemptive, even for me — a skin-obsessed, admittedly vain person who followed a precise product-laden skincare regimen. Likely the result of spending my teens fighting relentless acne that I spent hours attempting to cover while my fresh-faced friends looked like the ads for Clearasil and Noxzema.

After the event, I tried to return the gift card. (Can you imagine? I'd listen to the Dora the Explorer theme song on repeat while river dancing in wooden clogs for free Botox today!)

Anyway, the owner of the spa wouldn't let me return the gift card. She convinced me to proceed with the Botox treatment and see if I noticed any changes afterward. I reluctantly agreed and made an appointment for the following week.

At my appointment, I was told to hold a mirror in front of my face while the injector and I discussed what results I hoped for. I felt stupid for going through with the appointment, but I decided to write about my maiden Botox journey for a popular wedding blog, so I was trying to take it seriously. I pointed to some faint lines across my forehead and between my brows (the so-called "11s"). The process was quick, virtually painless, and aside from the tiny pinpricks of blood where the injections were made, I was ready to hit the town afterward — or, in my case, go home, change into pajamas, and work on my laptop.

The results were subtle, and I looked more rested

A few nights later, I couldn't sleep, so I went to my office and did some lackluster work on a few writing assignments I'd been putting off. Halfway through some drivel about something I knew no one would read, I caught a glimpse of myself in a mirror hung on the wall near my desk. Huh, I thought. It was 2 a.m., I wasn't wearing a stitch of makeup, and the lighting in my office was terrible, but somehow, I looked refreshed, rested, and, dare I say, good. "The Botox!" I thought, surprised.

I later learned that preventive Botox is a thing (also sometimes called "baby Botox," because less of it is often administered at a time when people get it for this reason). Basically, it means getting the treatment to slow the development of wrinkles over time, rather than using it to combat developed wrinkles. This is essentially what I started doing, but I didn't fully realize it then. I would simply notice I wasn't looking as rested, or that my makeup was starting to crease in a few lines on my forehead, and I go in for a little touch-up.

I'm also a fan of the preventive approach because the results are subtle. Rather than going from wrinkles to wrinkle-less overnight, I've been slowly treating them as I age. I'm not embarrassed about getting it, and I'll be the first to recommend it to almost anyone. Still, I like that after a treatment, I don't look like a completely different person.

My Botox appointments have gotten more expensive — and frequent

While my results have been great, I have to be honest with you. It's not at all cheap. In my 20s, Botox was more affordable because I only needed it about every six months, and I treated only a few areas on my forehead. I'd spend around $300 per visit. Now, well into my 30s, the time between visits has changed. Now I only last three months — maybe four, if I can stand it — and the number of injection sites has expanded to include the area around my eyes. I'm up to about $600 a visit now.

While the increasing cost of my little Bo' habit doesn't thrill me, I justify it like this. I don't spend money on other products or procedures to fight wrinkles: no eye creams, lasers, retinol, nothing. I use Aveeno moisturizer (I love you, Jennifer Aniston!), and that's it. I'd like to think I'm saving money, but I'm probably lucky if I'm breaking even.

So, yes, I've spent a small fortune holding on to a bit of my youth, but it's been well worth the investment for me. I still get carded sometimes, and I'm not going to lie, when people are genuinely shocked to learn that I'm 39 years old, it makes me feel good.