I'm a fan of Nora Ephron. I enjoy her books, her movies, her blog entries at The Huffington Post, and her recipes.
In 2007, I was in the library and happened to see her book titled I Feel Bad About My Neck: And Other Thoughts On Being A Woman. At the time I read the book, I gave little thought to my neck. It was an issue that could wait. Fast forward five years and my neck ordered me to reread the book. It alleged that I didn't take my neck seriously and I dozed off at key passages. To do right by my neck, I marched to the library and borrowed the book.
In I Feel Bad About My Neck, Ephron talks about aging and the effects of aging on the neck, subjects that are usually off limits for most women. It's hard to grow old and accept the physical effects of aging, let alone chat about it. But Ephron wants to chat about it, and she deals with it in a humorous and candid way. She starts off by listing the different kinds of necks. (I must mention that I'm horrified at the sheer number of necks. The following is just a short list.)
"There are chicken necks, turkey gobbler necks, scrawny necks, loose necks, crepey necks, stringy necks, and mottled necks. There are necks that are an amazing combination of all of the above," she said. She informs us that without surgery, there is nothing you can do about the necks. "According to my dermatologist, the neck starts to go at forty-three and that's that," she adds. "The neck is a dead giveaway. . . . You have to cut open a redwood tree to see how old it is, but you wouldn't have to if it had a neck." Then she expounds on her experience with her neck, the cosmetic surgery option, and the questionable idea that "it's great to be old."
What I took away from the essay was this: no surgery = turkey neck in all its glory = out of your control = so be it.
So what's happening to my neck that's causing me to write this blog post? Let me reminisce. I remember saying to myself in my 30s that I'm going to age gracefully and embrace the inevitable. There will be no remodeling and carpentry work on my neck or any other part of my body. No thanks to surgery, injections, laser treatments, or whatever else is out there. I'll stick to creams and lotions.
Those were nice thoughts back then when my neck was smooth and lovely. But when the wrinkles appeared on my neck for the first time, I did a double take. As I studied the wrinkles, I gasped for air because I knew it was the moment of truth. The moment of no return. The moment when I entered a new relationship with my poor old neck. I realized that the au naturel philosophy was in dire need of some tweaking.
It's bad enough when you get crow's feet, droopy upper eyelids, wrinkles, and puffiness under the eyes. But when you get wrinkles on your neck, it puts panic in your heart and sends shock waves reverberating throughout your body. Why is this area so terrifying? Because it's a flashing neon sign. The neck is a prominent feature of the body and like the face, it is expose to scrutiny. And more important, the types of wrinkles that appear on the neck are--as they say in Spanish--no bueno.
I still hold the age gracefully philosophy, but it's not cast in concrete. I take my neck very seriously and any other effects of aging. When I'm at an impasse, I contemplate on what I can live with and I go from there.
Time really does fly and what you do for your neck is up to you. It's a personal choice. Whatever you do, don't let your neck order you around.
(Nora Ephron passed away on June 26, 2012. She was a filmmaker, director, producer, screenwriter, novelist, playwright, journalist, blogger, and HuffPost Contributing Editor. She was an inspiration to me and she set the bar for humorous writing. Nora Ephron was an extraordinary talent and she will be missed.)
Image Credit: Arlette via photopin cc
