Wrinkles Are Beautiful, Said No Woman Ever

Wrinkles Are Beautiful, Said No Woman Ever

My preoccupation (fine, obsession) with my muffin tops has subsided recently, only to be replaced by a more intense preoccupation (ok, obsession) with what's happening to the lower part of my face and my neck.

Years ago, I remember watching Nora Ephron on Oprah, talking about how she disliked her neck. Being only a few years into my 30’s at that point, I have to admit I thought she was being a little melodramatic. C'mon Nora, no one even looks down there. Get over it!

But now, with 40 on the horizon, I can’t help but notice that the area above my shoulders is changing rapidly. Grooves around my mouth are deepening. Skin is starting to hang from the bottom of my chin. And my neck, oh my neck. My neck is beginning to resemble piles of mashed potatoes stacked atop each other.

I've always said I have no problem with women having plastic surgery or getting botox. And it’s true, I really don’t. But a big part of the reason I could say this was because I looked in the mirror and felt quite confident that I didn’t need any of that stuff. And now I’m not so sure.

Actually, that's incorrect. I know that I would look a little less wrinkly and saggy if I got a squirt of something here or a smidgeon taken off there. But I’d prefer not to, because I’m curious to see what nature has in store for me. At least that was the story until I became obsessed with the lower part of my face.

I want her neck

For now, I have no plans to go under the needle or knife. Instead, I jump out of bed in the morning to see what gravity may have done to my face and neck while I was sleeping. And I kind of curse our society for not have much of a place for women over 40, women with character lines on their faces and non-gazelle like necks.

Quick: name a female character in a book, movie or TV show who is over 40 and totally rocks. Sexy, successful, has a somewhat normal family situation and doesn't look like Courtney Cox, who has had so much work done I can barely recognize her. Can't do it? Me neither.

Someone needs to change this, pronto. Because even women like me - actually, especially women like me - need role models. Otherwise, we'll be staring at our faces and necks all day, wondering what the heck gravity - and life - have in store for us.

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