When I was offered treatment for my sun-damaged skin last year, I felt huge relief. I had believed it was too late for me, and I was doomed to suffer the consequences of decades of sun-worshipping and poor care.
The offer came after I took part in Spencer Matthews’ Untapped podcast to discuss my life before and after sobriety – and I foolishly forgot that audio is also visual in these modern times. Arriving au naturel, bar moisturiser and mascara, I was to pay a heavy, public price.
I then made the added mistake of looking at the social media comments and the words ‘aged badly’ leapt out at me. Rather than focus on my honesty about my issues with alcohol, social media was set alight with criticism about my leathery, over-tanned face.
I showed my eldest daughter Bo, who’s 25, and she very sweetly told me to concentrate on the kind words not the cruel ones. But who can do that? It’s always the negative stuff that sticks.
I was really upset. Firstly, because it’s so depressing that people judge a woman’s appearance rather than her words or actions. Also, from a child right into adulthood, I’ve had issues with my skin – shameful outbreaks of eczema would appear on my body and face in response to stress or allergies. I could never rely on my skin – it was volatile and, at times, crushingly disappointing.
Due to my eczema, I was made to believe the sun was my skin’s friend and in many medical ways, it was. I was told to use a UV lamp and later sunbeds, bathe in sea salt and apply astringent creams.
As a child of the Seventies and a teenager of the Eighties, no one sought protection from the sun. There wasn’t masses of SPF around – the mindset was all about accelerating tanning. The darker the shade of mahogany you went, the more lush you were. Also, as a Nordic child who might only see five to six hours of daylight in winter, I sought out and worshipped the sun whenever I could.
I loved – and still do – how sunlight lifts your soul. As for premature ageing, it wasn’t something I dwelled on in my 20s. I used SPF, but not religiously – if I went on holiday I wanted a tan.
Age 58: Ulrika today, after seeking help to reverse years of sun damage, which included applying SPF every day
Age 52: A heavily tanned Ulrika in 2020 after years of sun worshipping
Age 23: Ulrika in 1990 during her career as a TV presenter
I acknowledge that a huge part of my career was courtesy of my agreeable face. I was blonde, blue-eyed and quite innocent looking. ‘Easy on the eye’ as men might say. But then I was just 20. However, I never considered the value of my face. For me, my career was all about the work I put in. I didn’t care what others thought of my looks, despite being described as ‘sexy’, ‘Swedish’ and ‘blonde’. In Sweden, lots of people are blonde after all, so I was no extraordinary exception.
My father died suddenly at 53 from a brain haemorrhage, so I’ve always known getting old isn’t guaranteed. I actually never thought about a life beyond 50. But now here I am, at nearly 59, being bullied and judged because of my appearance.
I haven’t dabbled with lots of skincare. I’ve just used La Mer moisturiser for decades because it agrees with me. I’ve never had regular facials. And I always knew there would be a price to pay for being a sun worshipper.
As a feminist I try not to care what others say, but it’s impossible. I think what bothers me the most is that people want to be so cruel. The bar is set impossibly high for women. A man wouldn’t have got the same amount of critique.
On a personal level, though, this experience has shown me how my skin is viewed by others – and I haven’t liked what I’ve seen. So when Dr Benji Dhillon, from Define Clinic in Beaconsfield, invited me to a consultation, I jumped at the chance because I really needed some help.
Over the years, I haven’t done much to counter the process of ageing. I’ve had Botox in my frown lines and a bit of filler but looking older isn’t something that bothers me. With Dr Dhillon there was no mention of anti-ageing, the focus was on treatments to rejuvenate, refresh and repair my sun-damaged skin.
His knowledge and experience were without judgment – having someone not shame or look at me with despair gave me hope. We agreed on a plan of various treatments over a six-month period and perhaps, most crucially, a skincare regime with medical-grade products.
At first I rolled my eyes at the thought of spending hours cleansing, stripping and moisturising my skin, but actually, the routine takes me mere minutes at both ends of the day. In doing it, I’ve learnt to value and respect my skin in a way I never have before.
It’s helped that 22 months ago, I gave up alcohol. While I don’t have a long history of alcohol addiction, it had become problematic for me in the past couple of years. Since going teetotal, I’ve been on an incredible journey of healing and found an inner peace I didn’t think possible. I’ve gone from feeling I wasn’t cut out for life, to a woman in her late 50s eagerly awaiting what the future holds. So, if I’d worked hard at mending my soul and my mindset, why wouldn’t I want to heal my skin? It was my next act of self-care.
It’s infuriating that we have such a negative approach to getting older. Ageing should be celebrated and valued as the privilege it is. The current fashion for stuffing faces with filler and Botox to stay forever young has launched a cohort of Stepford Wives. Their aesthetic journey has created a ghastly template of identikit women with lips like tyres, overinflated cheeks and frozen faces.
I’m not anti these treatments but if the first thing you notice about someone is their frozen features, the aesthetician isn’t doing it right. The approach should be about balance and improvement not exaggeration. I trusted Dr Dhillon implicitly because he saw me as an individual and his intention was never about changing how I looked, but rather improving it.
I now have a greater respect for my skin. I have not sat in the sun since the day I met Dr Dhillon and I will never use a sunbed again. The miracle is that since I’ve had help with my skin, I’ve been wearing SPF every day – even through winter.
But the most fundamental change has been the way I feel about my face. I can say, wholeheartedly, that I now look in the mirror knowing I look the very best I can. My face is not perfect; it’s the face of a nearly 59-year-old. But for the first time in my life, I can honestly say I accept it. I am not meant to look 39. This is how I’m meant to look.
