I posted recently about my saggy neck and jowls—an ode to the slow betrayal of collagen—and to my surprise, it resonated. So many women responded with kindness, humor, and solidarity. I expected silence or maybe pity, but instead I got a chorus of support. You made me laugh, you made me feel seen, and you reminded me that aging isn’t something to hide—it’s something we share. I tried to submit an edit to thank you all properly, to sing your praises, but it was denied. Then the original post vanished. Still, your words stayed with me, and they mattered.
I don’t know why the post was deleted, and I won’t pretend it didn’t sting. It felt like losing a little piece of connection. But what remains is the warmth you gave me. I read every comment, every joke, every story. You turned my self-deprecating lament into a celebration of womanhood, resilience, and shared experience. I didn’t feel alone in my saggy skin—I felt lifted. And that’s no small thing. In a world that often tells us to disappear as we age, you reminded me that we still have voice, presence, and power.
I’ve always believed in the strength of women, but this community proved it in real time. You didn’t just respond—you rallied. You turned a post about neck folds into a moment of collective grace. I wish I could thank each of you individually. You made me feel beautiful, not because I’m wrinkle-free, but because I’m still here, still laughing, still connecting. That’s the kind of beauty that lasts. And it’s the kind that matters most. You gave me that. And I’ll carry it with me.
To mark the moment, I got a new tattoo. It’s from Friends—Joey on The $10,000 Pyramid: “Paper! Snow! A ghost!” If you know, you know. It’s silly, nostalgic, and oddly perfect. Because aging doesn’t mean losing your spark. It means owning your quirks, your stories, your pop culture references. It means laughing at yourself and still showing up. That tattoo is a reminder that I’m still me—just with a little more texture. And maybe a little more wisdom. Or at least better punchlines.
I’m not trying to reclaim youth. I’m trying to honor the life I’ve lived. The neck may sag, the jowls may droop, but the spirit? She’s still dancing. Still cracking jokes. Still getting tattoos. And still finding joy in unexpected places—like a deleted post that sparked a wave of love. You reminded me that vulnerability isn’t weakness. It’s a bridge. And you crossed it with me. Thank you for that. Truly. You warmed my (probably saggy!) heart, and I’ll never forget it.
So here’s to powerful women who support women. To laughter, to aging, to tattoos that make no sense unless you’ve watched Friends too many times. To posts that disappear but leave behind something real. You showed up for me, and I’ll keep showing up for others. Because this is what community looks like. And it’s beautiful—even with jowls.
