People often have a habit of freezing celebrities in their minds when they were at the peak of their fame, forgetting that they are human beings who age like everyone else. In addition, the widespread use of cosmetic surgery and fillers today further distorts our perception of how people naturally look as they age. However, fortunately, there are still some celebrities who remind us that there is absolutely nothing wrong with looking different as we age compared to our younger years.
Justine proudly embraces her age.
If you were a kid or teenager in the ’80s and ’90s, you probably remember Justine as Mallory Keaton from the popular TV show Family Ties. But after that, she shifted her focus from acting to working behind the scenes. Now, she’s a successful author and director. In a recent interview, the actress, now 57 years old, came back into the spotlight to share an important message with all women concerned about getting older.
When she reached her 40s, people considered her “old.”
Justine didn’t think about getting older until she had to search for something online. She wanted to research and refresh her memory about something that happened during her fame. But when she typed her name, Justine Bateman, into Google, the search autocomplete suggested: “looks old.” This happened when she was only around 40 years old.
That revelation actually boosted her self-confidence.
When questioned whether she had ever considered cosmetic procedures, Justine explained that plastic surgery would cause her to “lose all of her authority.” She expressed contentment with her current appearance and emphasized that she finds satisfaction in the visible signs that indicate she has evolved into a different individual from her younger self.
She even decided to write a book about her experiences.
Justine doesn’t criticize those who choose to undergo beauty treatments to appear younger, but she does express a feeling of sadness for them. She explains that she feels sorry for those so preoccupied with the idea of fixing their appearance that it distracts them from focusing on the meaningful aspects of life. In 2021, Justine Bateman released a book titled “Face: One Square Foot of Skin,” which addresses this significant issue.
Women shouldn’t spend too much time fixating on their looks.
Justine shared some exciting news: “There’s absolutely nothing wrong with your face!” she wrote as the caption for an Instagram post promoting her book. Justine draws from her experiences to illustrate society’s obsession with how women’s faces transform as they age. When asked about the beauty of aging, Justine firmly states that she doesn’t care about others’ opinions. She confidently asserts, “I think I look rad. My face represents who I am. I like it, and that’s basically the end of the road.”
Several notable figures in the public eye have made the conscious choice to embrace natural aging, rejecting the pressure to undergo cosmetic interventions. One such individual is Cameron Diaz, who boldly opted to age gracefully without relying on Botox or similar treatments. After an unpleasant experience where Botox altered her appearance in an unexpected manner, Diaz decided to embrace her natural features and allow the aging process to unfold authentically.
Preview photo credit Invision / Invision / East News, Invision / Invision / East News
I COMPLAINED ABOUT MY NEW NEIGHBORS’ HORRIBLE FOUNTAIN & RECEIVED A THREATENING NOTE FROM THEM.
The quietude of Elm Street, once a symphony of birdsong and gentle laughter, had been shattered. The arrival of the new neighbors, the Morlocks, had thrown the idyllic tranquility of their little community into chaos.
Initially, I had tried to be welcoming. A plate of freshly baked cookies, a warm smile, a friendly “Welcome to the neighborhood!” But my overture had been met with a chilling silence. The woman who answered the door, pale and gaunt, had regarded me with a suspicion that bordered on paranoia. “Ew, it smells awful,” she had muttered, her eyes darting nervously around as if I were some sort of disease.
Then came the fountain. A monstrosity of wrought iron and gargoyles, it stood imposingly in their yard, a constant, jarring presence. The incessant gurgling and splashing, day and night, had become the soundtrack to our lives. Sleep became elusive, replaced by the monotonous drone of the water.
The neighborhood, once a haven of peace and camaraderie, was now a battleground. Tempers flared. Arguments erupted at the weekly community meetings. Finally, a vote was taken – a unanimous decision to request the removal of the fountain.
And so, the unenviable task of filing the official complaint fell to me. I, the self-proclaimed peacemaker, the neighborhood’s unofficial ambassador of goodwill, was now the bearer of bad tidings.
That evening, as I returned home, a small, ominous package lay on my doorstep. No return address. A shiver ran down my spine.
Inside, a single sheet of paper, scrawled with menacing handwriting:
“I KNOW YOUR SECRET. YOU WILL BE POLITE TO YOUR NEW NEIGHBORS, OR EVERYONE WILL KNOW.”
Fear, cold and clammy, gripped me. Who was it? The Morlocks? Or someone else, someone watching, someone waiting for the right moment to strike?
The following days were a blur of paranoia and unease. I checked every window and door lock multiple times a night. I slept with the light on, the faintest sound sending shivers down my spine. My once peaceful neighborhood had transformed into a place of fear and suspicion.
The police, after much persuasion, agreed to investigate. They questioned the Morlocks, of course, but they denied any involvement. The woman, her face gaunt and drawn, maintained her innocence, claiming she was simply trying to enjoy her own property.
The investigation yielded nothing. No fingerprints, no witnesses, no concrete evidence. The threat remained, a chilling reminder of the darkness that lurked beneath the surface of our seemingly idyllic community.
I started carrying a small can of pepper spray, my hand instinctively reaching for it at every rustle of leaves, every unfamiliar sound. I avoided going out alone at night, my days filled with a constant sense of unease.
The incident had changed me. The once friendly, outgoing neighbor was now withdrawn, suspicious, constantly scanning the shadows for signs of danger. The peace and tranquility of Elm Street, shattered by the arrival of the Morlocks, had been replaced by a chilling sense of fear and uncertainty.
And the fountain, that monstrous, discordant symbol of their arrival, continued to spew its icy water, a constant reminder of the darkness that had seeped into the heart of their once idyllic community.I COMPLAINED ABOUT MY NEW NEIGHBORS’ HORRIBLE FOUNTAIN & RECEIVED A THREATENING NOTE FROM THEM.
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