The Scary and Unexpected Side Effect of My Microcurrent Facial
I began to dread the treatments, but my skin was looking good

When I called my skin care specialist to schedule a microdermabrasion, I asked her if there were any treatments for the wrinkles that were deepening around my mouth.
I’m in my late sixties and reconciled to the fact that various body parts are starting to slacken and droop. It’s no big deal. I’m energetic and fit and enjoying this post-menopausal stage, for the most part.
But a love of sunshine and outdoors has not only resulted in three skin cancers that were luckily only skin deep. Years of sun exposure have done their damage to my fair complexion.
I wanted to minimize the damage, and my skin care person had a positive, encouraging answer.
“I’ve got just the thing!” she said, before proceeding to tell be about a new machine she was anxious to try.
“I haven’t used it on anybody yet. I’ll give you the first treatment free. You can be my guinea pig. It’s supposed to reduce fine lines and wrinkles.”
She explained that I would be getting a microcurrent treatment. Two metal rods attached to the microcurrent machine would conduct electricity over the surface of my skin. But rather than being only surface deep, the electrical currents would run through my skin and facial muscles to improve skin tone.
When we hung up, I started researching, and everything I read on the internet was reassuring. Microcurrent was described as a low-level current that mimics the body’s natural ionic flow and has been shown to be safe and effective.
There are even portable at-home microcurrent devices that have become some of the hottest things in the anti-aging market.
I called her back, scheduled my treatment, and a week later I lay on a massage table as she rubbed a thick, gel-like moisturizer into my skin. When she turned on the machine and moved the attached wands slowly over my face, I felt a slight tingling. It was relaxing but not painful. The entire process took about an hour.
“You’ll love the results!”
She had already explained that I would need 10 or 12 treatments for the optimum outcome, with a follow-up treatment once a month to maintain results. “It takes that many for your muscles to build collagen, but you’ll love the results!”
I was on board when she said she would only charge $60 a treatment. According to my research, most places charged anywhere from $250 to $500. I justified the expense by telling myself I had saved a lot of money during the pandemic by not eating out, entertaining, traveling, or buying clothes.
When I got home from the first treatment, my spouse commented on my glowing, smooth skin. “I think it’s already showing results,” he said.
But the next week when I went back, the aesthetician was more aggressive, turning up the machine to a higher level. It wasn’t soothing anymore, but it wasn’t painful, so I didn’t protest.
Each week, the electric currents were stronger. The aesthetician always said, “Let me know if it gets too uncomfortable.” But she wanted to turn the machine as high as possible for maximum effect, so I tried not to protest.
There were several times when I asked her to turn the machine down, but she was worried that if I didn’t feel anything, the currents might not be working, so I tried to remain stoic.
I began to dread the treatments, but my skin was looking good. My sister came over one day and said, “Wow, you look great! What have you done?”
My aesthetician told me microcurrent facials were the closest available thing to a noninvasive facelift. Treatments encouraged the production of key structural proteins, such as collagen, which supports the skin’s structure.
As we age, our skin’s natural ability to manufacture these protein fibers is reduced. Facial stimulation through microcurrent is supposed to energize and tone facial muscles, producing a smooth and lifted appearance.
A good safety record
I also read that microcurrent changes muscle tissue, softens scar tissue and increases circulation and cellular metabolism. Most importantly, everything I read emphasized that microcurrent has a long history of being safe with no lasting adverse reactions.
It sounded great!
But after several treatments, the microcurrents were so strong my muscles began to to flutter and jump involuntarily. It felt like ping pong balls were bouncing around under my skin. One night after a treatment, my eyelid kept fluttering.
By morning the eyelid was okay, so I wasn’t worried. We were nearing the end of the treatments, and I was determined to see it through. But at my next appointment, the microcurrents were really painful. My muscles jumped wildly, and I finally asked her to turn the machine down.
I was relieved that I only had a couple more treatments to go.
The terrifying side effect
But relief didn’t last long, because what happened next was terrifying.
I had finished a treatment and was home working out on my rowing machine when I felt an involuntary movement in my cheek. One side of my face twisted sideways, my mouth crooking into a grimace. A few seconds later, it happened again. I kept waiting for the twitching to stop, but it didn’t. Every few seconds, the side of my mouth contorted in a bizarre grin.
I dashed to the bathroom and stood in front of the mirror, wondering if an overactive imagination was leading me to exaggerate the twitch. Maybe it wasn’t even visible. But to my horror, the mirror confirmed my fears. The grimace was sporadic, uncontrollable and real.
My sister had dropped by, and she and my spouse were in the family room talking when I emerged from the bathroom and told them what happened.
My sister said, “Oh my God! I see it! Your face just twitched!”
I had a sudden fear the twitch would progress to Bell’s Palsy, which is a sudden drooping of the face due to weakening facial muscles. I called my skin care person hoping she would say the twitching was a common, temporary side effect.
I got no such reassurance. She had never heard of this reaction and was as horrified as I was. She had no comforting words to offer.
I began to scour the internet, but didn’t find involuntary grimaces mentioned as a side effect of microcurrent facials. The articles I read said the treatments were not supposed to hurt, and the machine was not supposed to be turned up enough for your muscles to jump.
Twitching was a sign you needed to turn down the intensity, according to one article. Microcurrent treatments are supposed to be relaxing; not painful.
My face was still twitching when I went to bed, but I was relieved that over the next two days, the grimacing stopped. Two months later, my cheek muscle still feels a little weak on that side, but that could be my imagination. There have been no more involuntary movements.
What have I concluded about microcurrent facials following this frightening experience? If you get them, make sure the intensity of the machine is turned down.
As for me, I am going to embrace my wrinkles and consider them evidence of a life filled with sunshine and smiles.
