Every morning, as I stood in front of the illuminated mirror in my en-suite bathroom at home in west London, I’d stare forlornly at my face.

I couldn’t help but notice that I looked drawn, with a slightly saggy jawline and sunken cheeks.

I’d even taken to stretching taut the skin on my face with my hands to see how a facelift might change things should I ever be tempted. It made me look ten years younger, yet the idea of going under the knife terrified me.

I’d always done everything you’re meant to when it came to looking after my skin: I ate healthily, drank tons of water, swerved booze and often slept slathered in a hydrating overnight Korean hydrogel mask. I’d whack on retinol night creams and SPF 50 during the day, even if it was snowing. But suddenly nothing had any impact on my face’s dulled complexion and speedy structural descent.

I’m not naive. At 49 I wasn’t expecting to look 20 again. I’m a single parent to Lola, ten, and Liberty, eight, and life can be stressful but, even so, I shouldn’t have looked how I did.

Not only was there the slow, creeping effects of ageing we have to expect in midlife, but also the fact I’d lost nearly three stone on weight-loss drugs last summer, going from a size 14 to a size six – and, at my age, losing any substantial amount was going to show on my face.

However, I was so thrilled with my shrinking figure that it took me a while to notice. ‘Oh my God, I’ve got Ozempic face,’ I screeched to a friend.

It’s a common side effect of these GLP-1 drugs, such as Mounjaro and Wegovy, which I’d been taking for 18 months, first weekly for a year, then microdosing as and when needed to curb my appetite and to shut off the incessant food noise of stress eating.

The trouble with any rapid weight loss is that fat compartments in the face shrink and the skin appears looser, giving a slightly hollow, gaunt and sagging look.

And although I knew I was my worst critic, it gnawed away at me. I had to do something. Was it fixable? And if so, how?

I certainly didn’t want that overfilled and puffy look from derma fillers. I wanted a dewy, youthful, plump and firmer face but without the knife and the downtime. Was I asking for an impossible miracle?

Not according to Dr David Jack, a former plastic surgeon, who has A-listers and the fashion crowd lining up for his less-is-more approach to skin rejuvenation, and who recommends his UltraClear Lift (from £4,000) as his chosen weapon in the fight against ‘Ozempic face’ and general ageing.

I took a patch test to check my skin would not have any abnormal reactions to the laser and, when given the all clear, I booked myself in pronto.

‘Significant weight loss through GLP-1 use can change facial appearance quite quickly,’ Dr Jack told me, something he is seeing increasingly in his clinic as weight-loss medications become more common. ‘Patients on these drugs are now bothered by skin laxity, particularly around the lower face, neck, abdomen and upper arms.

‘With the rapid or substantial weight loss resulting from GLP-1s, the skin and underlying soft tissue often can’t contract quickly enough to match the new face or body shape. Fat also acts as structural support in the face and body, so when volume reduces quickly the skin can look looser and more crepey.’

UltraClear Lift is now considered the gold standard of lasers because it doesn’t rely on intense heat to achieve its results, meaning there is minimal downtime – just a few days of redness and peeling.

Instead of heat it uses a cold fractional laser to boost collagen and elastin deep within the skin to create a firmer, smoother and more youthful and even toned complexion.

Until recently, CO2 laser resurfacing was the go-to technique most commonly used for tightening facial skin without resorting to surgery, but the downtime is often one to two weeks and can result in several months of redness. It can make some pigmentation worse, especially on darker skins, and many found the procedure itself painful.

UltraClear Lift sounded an altogether better bet. It’s much gentler on the skin than CO2 lasers and is especially good for people my age, Dr Jack told me.

He added: ‘Patients in their 40s and 50s often benefit most because collagen levels have declined sufficiently for tightening treatments to make a visible difference, while the skin still retains strong regenerative capacity. In younger patients the aim is usually preventative maintenance, with lighter treatments that maintain collagen density over time.’

Dr Jack said the regenerative results would take up to six months post-treatment to fully appear, with skin continuing to improve for up to a year and results lasting one to five years. Ideally you have a maintenance treatment annually to keep the results topped up.

It will not replace surgery in cases of severe laxity, he said, but for many patients like me, with mild to moderate looseness, it can make the skin look healthier, firmer and more supported – and the effect reads as fresher rather than obviously treated. Exactly what I was after.

As advised, I arrived at his clinic in London’s Belgravia 90 minutes early in order to have a thick numbing cream plastered all over my face, neck and eye area so that I would feel no pain.

The treatment takes 45 minutes, and as I laid down wearing goggles in the dark, I heard a little zap sound as Dr Jack used a hand-held device to deliver fast, precise, fractionated laser energy to my face, neck and delicate eye area. This created tiny micro-injuries on the skin’s surface to trigger the body’s natural wound-healing response and act as a signal to the body to produce new collagen, elastin and hyaluronic acid.

I couldn’t help but feel a bit shaky. I’d been traumatised about 15 years ago when I got burnt by IPL (intense pulsed light) laser resurfacing on my face and decolletage.

My chest has never fully recovered, and still looks stripy in the sun because the setting was too high.

In the end the procedure was painless. As I walked out of the clinic, I looked bright red, as if I had an extreme case of sunburn.

The aftercare instructions did say I could experience redness for around five days, plus I had to avoid strenuous exercise for 48 hours and not use any active ingredients on my skin for 11 days.

That evening I could wash my face gently with water, wipe my skin with Clinisept (a dermatologically tested cleanser for sensitive skin) and apply a layer of Aquaphor ointment (a soothing skin repair balm).

By the time I arrived at my children’s school for pick up, 45 minutes later, wearing a hoodie to disguise myself, things had escalated. I was in a shocking state, covered in dry blood, and it looked as if I’d been savaged by a pitbull or come from the set of a slasher film.

I had briefly mentioned to my children that I might be a little red and blotchy when they next saw me – but this was off the scale.

‘There is absolutely nothing to worry about. I’ve just had a beauty treatment,’ I told horrified parents at the school gate as I barged forward to grab my daughters, who screamed out: ‘Mum, what have you done?’

My skin felt hot, tight and irritated, but this was also normal with a medical level laser. I drove the children home in silence – and realised we’d have to order a takeaway as I couldn’t face the supermarket aisles.

I wondered if I should leave the scabs to drop off naturally, as I was under strict instructions to avoid touching my face as much as possible for a couple of days.

The next morning, looking even worse, I called a mum friend to ask if she could take my girls to school, but sadly she didn’t pick up her phone.

As I parked my car in a side street by the school, I saw a dad friend with his two children. I waved him over enthusiastically to ask him to walk Lola and Liberty over to the entrance, so I didn’t have to see anybody.

But despite telling him I’d only had a beauty procedure, he looked at me in shock and asked: ‘Has somebody smashed a bottle over your head?’ Rumours started swirling at the school gate that I’d had a nasty accident.

Once home, I decided to call the clinic for reassurance. They told me it was nothing to worry about and advised me to carefully clean the dried blood off my skin.

Soon it glowed with a healthy pinkness – and I could see me, but me many years ago when I looked younger.

By the third day I went out as normal with no make-up on. I was still a little red but I looked fresher.

It has now been five months since I had the facelift – and it’s peaking.

People who haven’t seen me for a few months can’t put their finger on why, but keep saying I look more youthful.

My face looks more lifted, my jawline is impressively sharper with no double chin, my skin is firmer and plumper, with a smoother texture. I’m also less jowly and my face appears rested.

I look as if I have been on holiday – and my face doesn’t show the signs of the reality of life as a single mum juggling work and two children.

For a while I wasn’t sure if the eye area had benefited much, but the sagging eyelids have tightened and given me back a wider shape, while the under-eye crinkling has improved a bit.

I wasn’t looking for perfection though. Now when I look in the mirror, I smile. The best version of me is staring back – and I look fresher with rejuvenated skin from the inside out.