decisions

small and big

I used to feel very strongly about facelifts
Not casually—morally. 
I had assigned myself as head 
of all women who would never - ever 

I thought it was a betrayal. 
Of feminism. Of aging. 
Of our team of women worldwide.  
And then I lost 50 pounds… 

It wasn’t wrinkles—
it was gravity 
I’d look in the mirror and think, this isn’t aging, 
this is melting with intention.

I tried to be evolved about it. 
and say things like, 
“This is natural. This is earned.” 
And then… “umm how earned does it have to look?” 

There’s a point where acceptance 
starts to feel like lying. 

So I started just gathering information—
which is what women say 
when they are absolutely considering something 
they swore they’d never do. 

then my 13-year-old child found out. 
And it was not subtle. 
“You earned your wrinkles.” 
Which—first of all—rude. But also… correct. 

Then clay said, “Young women look up to you,” 
And finally - with strong effect - 
“I wouldn’t be able to respect you if you did it.” 
And that one… landed. 

That’s a big statement from someone 
who still needs you to open jars.

And what was wild is—
she sounded exactly like me. 
Like my younger, more certain, 
more morally rigid self had somehow moved into my house 

and was now judging my face. 
It really threw me.
I delayed the whole thing for months, 
just sitting with it,  thinking.

And then I had this quiet realization: 
if I’m teaching clay anything, 
it can’t be that my body belongs to an idea either. 
Even a good idea. Even feminism. 

Because that’s still not freedom—
that’s just a different authority 
telling you what you’re allowed to do 
with your own face.

I want them to grow up in a world 
where they don't feel like they have to change 
but also knows they can, if  they want to, 
without losing moral standing in their own life.

So in January, I did it. 
I found a doctor I trusted—someone who had worked on friends of mine 
who all still looked like themselves, 
just like they had recently been told good news. 

right before I went under, 
I grabbed my doctors hand and said 
‘I will never say, ‘God, I wish you did more.’” 
And I meant it. 

I didn’t want to become that voice—
the one that keeps moving the goalpost, never satisfied, 
the one that turns their own face into a problem 
One can never quite solve. 

I wanted a limit. 
I wanted to still be me, just… less haunted.
And I do look like me - A slightly more well-rested
emotionally stable version of me. 

And here’s the thing—no one has noticed. 
Not one person. 
Not a friend, not a stranger, 
not even people who owe me compliments. 

My teen daughter,  has not said a word. Nothing. 
I went through a full existential feminist crisis, 
had my face and neck surgically altered, 
and the result is… zippo .

Which honestly is the best possible outcome. 
I didn’t disappear, I didn’t become someone else—
I just stopped arguing with the mirror. 
And maybe that’s enough. Or at the very least… 

it’s what a lower deep plane face lift looks like 
when it minds its own business.

And should I just mind my own business 
I don’t own anyone an explanation
But it feels familiar 
The sense of deceit I'm struggling with 

I am a gay woman 
Always have been 
I told the executives at Warner brothers 
That truth before I started my show 

I didn’t think it fair they invest in me 
Without knowing the facts - 
Something that could possibly impact 
The success of the show 

It was 1995 
Ellen was not out
Will and grace not yet on tv
Neither was queer eye

I never ever thought 
I could be out and have a career 
In movies and television 
As actor or host 

1981 I was nearly 20 
Love Sidney came on television 
A gay artist surviving his husbands 
Death - having been gay bashed 

There was talk about it in church 
Catholics were incensed  - 
A sit com about a gay man 
Played beautifully by Tony Randall 

I read reviews in the paper 
People calling gays names 
Dismissing them from the conversation 
As unworthy - less then - moral failures

The show was cancelled after 2 seasons 
One couldn’t be out in fiction - at school - at work 
You couldn’t be out 
That was the message I got 

In the 90s 
In america 
I watched in awe and wonder 
As friends came out 

Kd Melissa then Ellen 
A female comic actress
Who was on tv like me 
I was asked incessantly about it 

Forcing questions about myself
That never came before 
We did our lesbian subtle jokes on my show 
I supported her even though I felt it risky 

Then I watched her downfall 
The negative reactions she was getting 
I found it terrifying 
And unsettling 

I have never like secrets 
And part of my desire to show myself 
Is to come clean 
But who do I owe that truth to ?

Is it mine to keep ?
As I move on in my 60s 
With a rejuvenated lower face 
As if it happened naturally 

It didn’t 
It cost more money 
Than I have ever paid for a car 
 - my privileged place in this world 

And that feels almost shameful to me 
The things I have -
Earned some say 
But its the gross excess that wounds me 

As I get ready for the last day of school 
With my youngest - the caboose 
Here at 64 years old
With a new lower face and neck 

Just happy to be alive 
Able to feel and choose 
And use my voice 
Whenever I feel called to 

For the girl I was 
The woman I am 
And all those joining my ranks 
As we carry on in act 3 

This is me