I Made Peace With My Neck

My turkey waddle was a droopy embarrassment. But then I found the power in its vulnerability

Image by Freepik

Before my daughter’s wedding, I laser-focused on my grooming. I dieted and exercised. I whitened my teeth and tanned my body. Well-paid professionals fussed over my hair, nails, and makeup. I thought I had covered every detail, until…uh oh, duh — the photos.

From every camera angle, in every setting, and under every type of lighting, the problem was obvious. It was my neck. Consistently, it hung there — sallow, crinkly, and lifeless — drooping in all its turkey-waddle glory.

Nora Ephron once wrote, “Our faces are lies and our necks are the truth.” Botox and neck creams be damned! How could I blunt the truth and turn back time?

Decorating my neck

It wasn’t always this way. When I was young, I craned my neck over the pages of fashion magazines, determined to emulate my idols — long-necked beauties such as Farrah Fawcett, Bo Derek, and Brooke Shields.

My quest was quite a stretch. While Farrah, Bo, and Brooke were curvy, tan, and free-spirited, I was flat, pale, and painfully shy. I tried various beauty hacks — like stuffing socks into my training bra and sunbathing atop sheets of aluminum foil. But in the end…