Sometimes, keeping up with Hollywood glitz requires using procedures like plastic surgery to seem younger. It’s no secret that a lot of celebrities choose cosmetic surgery in order to maintain their youthful appearance and the chances it presents.
Actress Sally Field is among some in the film industry who are unwilling to adopt this trend, though.
It’s safe to say that Field has an impressive career because she has starred in movies like Forrest Gump, Norma Rae, Mrs. Doubtfire, and Sweetheart. She has also been nominated for two BAFTA Film Awards, two Academy Awards, three Primetime Emmy Awards, two Golden Globe Awards, two SAG Awards, and most recently, the Life Achievement Award.
She is 76 years old, but she still looks amazing and is content with the way she looks. She accepted her naturally gray hair and looked stunning in black for her SAG Achievement Award speech.
“I felt out of the spotlight, cautious, and reserved. But I never knew what I would say or do when I was on stage. I’d surprise myself,” the actress remarked. “It’s great, but I wasn’t hoping for attention or praise.”
“Acting has always been about preserving those precious moments when I feel whole, thoroughly, and sometimes dangerously alive,” the actress went on. It has never been easy to find a way there.
They gave me the confidence to be vulnerable and revealed aspects of myself to me that I never would have otherwise known. I’ve spent my entire life at work. Over the course of her nearly 60-year career, she said, “I have never been happier to identify as an actor.”
She was questioned in 2016 about her feelings over her portrayal of the venerable and quirky Doris Miller.
“It’s alright, I’m an old woman; seventy is old.” I’ve gained strength from my years; I’ve owned them and earned the right to have them. And it’s okay, even if I don’t like my neck and a lot of other things,” Field said to NPR.
And although there is a serious battle against ageism in Hollywood, Field chooses to remain true to herself when it comes to the natural aging process. “When I watch myself on TV, I think, ‘Oh, I wish that weren’t happening to my neck. In addition, your face is contracting and your eyes are protruding. But then I see some of the women that I used to think were so beautiful—women who have had plastic surgery. I’m feeling right now, oh no. Don’t do that! She had previously stated, “And that would seem disrespectful to who they are right now.”
Field experienced two marriages and two divorces. She wed Steven Craig in 1986, and the two of them had two boys. In 1975, the pair decided to call it quits.
Before she married film producer Alan Greisman, she dated Burt Reynolds. Greisman and Field are parents to a son.
She ultimately made the decision to devote herself fully to her work, but the turning point in her life came when she became a grandmother.
She loved spending time with her grandchildren at her lovely beach house with views of the ocean, and she embraced her new job.
We adore Sally Field.
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My Stepmom Gifted Me a Funerary Urn for My 17th Birthday
I always knew my stepmom, Monica, wasn’t exactly the nicest person—annoying, yes, but not evil. She was the type who would talk over me, forget my birthday, and call me “kiddo” even though I was practically an adult.
But what she did on my 17th birthday? It was the final straw.
It all started after my mom, Sarah, passed away when I was ten. After that, it was just me and Dad. We were a team—movie nights, pizza dinners, and a mutual understanding that we had each other’s backs, always.
Then Monica came along about three years ago. She wasn’t the worst, just kind of… there. She moved in, slowly took over the bathroom with her endless beauty products, and managed to inch her way into Dad’s life, whether I liked it or not.
Monica had dreams—big dreams—of opening a hair salon. I didn’t have a problem with people having dreams, but I had my own, too, and she treated me like I was an inconvenience that came with the house.
But I had a plan. College was my way out, and Dad had promised me from the time I was little that there was a college fund waiting for me. “Your mom and I set it up when you were five, Lila,” he’d say. “It’s all there, and I add to it every year.”
So, I worked hard in school, counting down the days until I could leave for college and start a life of my own.
On the morning of my 17th birthday, I wasn’t expecting much. Maybe some pancakes, a card—Dad was at work, so it was just Monica and me. But when Monica handed me a gift bag, things took a weird turn.
Inside the bag was a pink funerary urn. Yes, you read that right. An urn.
I stared at it, completely confused. “What the hell is this?” I asked.
Monica leaned against the kitchen counter, a smug look on her face. “It’s symbolic,” she said as if that explained anything.
“Symbolic of what?” I asked, already feeling a sinking feeling in my stomach.
Monica smiled wider. “It’s time to bury your college dreams, kiddo. Your dad and I decided to put that fund to better use.”
“Better use?” I repeated, my heart racing.
“Yep. We used it to help me open my salon. College is a gamble, Lila. But a business? That’s a real investment.”
I was frozen. Had they really taken my future, my college fund, and sunk it into Monica’s dream? How could my dad have let this happen?
“Life’s full of disappointments,” she added, as if that was supposed to be comforting.
I ran upstairs and slammed my door, sobbing harder than I ever had. Everything I’d worked for, everything my mom had wanted for me, was gone.
For the next few days, I barely spoke to either of them. Monica pranced around like she owned the house while I sat with the urn on my desk, a twisted reminder of what I had lost.
Then, a few days later, something strange happened.
When I got home from school, there was a note on my desk in Monica’s messy handwriting: Meet me at the salon at 6 P.M. tonight. No questions. Just trust me.
I almost laughed. Trust her? After what she did?
But my curiosity got the better of me, and against my better judgment, I went.
When I arrived at the salon, the lights were off, but the door was unlocked. Hesitant, I stepped inside. There, in the middle of the room, were Monica and my dad, both grinning.
“Surprise!” Monica shouted.
I was speechless.
“Look,” Monica said, stepping aside to reveal a shiny new sign on the wall: Dream Cuts: A Scholarship Fund in Honor of Sarah.
“What is this?” I asked, completely lost.
Monica’s smile softened. “We didn’t use your college fund, Lila. It’s all still there. The salon isn’t just for me—it’s for you, too. And for others like you. A portion of the profits will go toward funding scholarships in your mom’s name.”
I blinked, feeling like the ground was shifting beneath my feet.
“But… why make me think otherwise?” I asked, still trying to wrap my head around it.
Monica winced. “Yeah, the urn thing… That was not my best idea. I thought it would be motivational, like burying the past and embracing the future. Turns out, it was just creepy.”
Dad stepped forward, placing a hand on my shoulder. “We’ve been planning this for months. Your mom always wanted to help kids get to college. This way, her dream lives on.”
I stood there, stunned, my anger melting into something softer.
Monica looked at me earnestly. “I’m not trying to replace your mom, Lila. I just want to build something meaningful, something that helps you and others. I know I haven’t been the best stepmom, but I hope this can be a fresh start.”
For the first time in a long time, I smiled.
It wasn’t perfect, and maybe things with Monica never would be. But in that moment, standing in a salon named for my mom, I realized she wasn’t trying to destroy my future—she was trying to honor it in a way I hadn’t expected.
And yeah, I kept the urn. I planted peace lilies in it. Maybe it wasn’t the symbol Monica had intended, but it had become something new. A symbol of hope.
What would you have done in my shoes?
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