61-year-old Meg Ryan makes rare public appearance, sparks debate on internet – ‘what did she do to herself’

The Sleepless in Seattle Star, who made her on-screen debut in Rich and Famous (1981), displayed an incredibly smooth complexion, once again fueling rumors that she may have dabbled in plastic surgery, despite her previous denials.
Indeed, some shared less than flattering opinions over Meg’s new look online, reigniting a debate that the actress herself has weighed in on in the past.
“This is Meg Ryan,” one Twitter user commented. “Hopefully women will learn from this. Plastic Surgery is for Frankenstein.
“Meg Ryan spent thousands to make herself unrecognizable and hideous,” another added.

Another person wrote of the pictures, “what did she do to herself? These hollywood elites overdo the plastic surgery. Get a refund”
“Wtf has Meg Ryan done to her face?!” a third wrote.

n the past Ryan has insisted that she pays little attention to those offering negative opinions as to her appearance.
In a 2015 interview with Porter Magazine, she openly addressed the rumors regarding plastic surgery.
“I don’t pay a lot of attention, frankly,” she said at the time. “There’s a lot of hatred in the world today. It’s so easy to judge. Imagine being a hater, how stupid.”
Turning out for the aforementioned screening, held at the Alice Tully Hall in the Lincoln Center, New York, the actress seemed to be in good spirits as she posed for pictures with the likes of Billy Murray and Elvis Costello on Michael J. Fox’s big night.
Fox, who recently conceded that he didn’t think he would live to see 80 years old, is releasing a new documentary focusing on his life during the three decades since his diagnosis.

The Back to the Future star was first told he had Parkinson’s disease aged just 29. Despite initially endeavoring to hide his condition, he’s since become a leading figure in the fight for heightened awareness and research.
In a tear-jerking recent interview, Fox candidly reflected on his own mortality, saying that his ongoing battle with Parkinson’s was “getting tougher”

“I’m not gonna lie. It’s gettin’ hard, it’s gettin’ harder. It’s gettin’ tougher,” the retired actor said. “Every day it’s tougher. But, but, that’s, that’s the way it is. I mean, you know, who do I see about that?”
He added that he recently had spinal surgery after a tumor was found on his spine. While it was benign, it affected his ability to walk, and he was injured after a fall.
“[I] broke this arm, and I broke this arm, I broke this elbow. I broke my face. I broke my hand,” Fox said.

“You don’t die from Parkinson’s. You die with Parkinson’s. I’ve been thinking about the mortality of it. … I’m not gonna be 80. I’m not gonna be 80.”

Woman Thought Pretending to Be Someone’s Girlfriend at a Wedding Would Be Fun Until She Wished She Hadn’t — Story of the Day

Stuck in an elevator with a stranger was bad enough. But when Lena found out Dylan—a charming, suit-clad mystery man—needed a fake date for a wedding the next day, things got even weirder. A power outage, a bold proposition, and one tempting question: Would she really say yes to a total stranger?

Lena checked her watch for the third time in a minute. Late. Again.

She exhaled sharply, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear as she strode down the boutique hotel’s hallway.

The air smelled of fresh lilies, their floral sharpness mixed with the faintest trace of citrus and polished wood.

It was the kind of scent that clung to weddings—the kind that brought memories of champagne toasts, aching feet in high heels, and teary speeches that went on too long.

A fitting reminder, considering her best friend had gotten married last week.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Lena reached the elevator and jabbed the button, as if sheer determination could speed up the machinery.

She bounced on her heels, fingers tapping anxiously against the strap of her bag.

The soft chime of the elevator arriving barely registered in her brain before she darted inside.

Just as the doors started closing, a blur of movement caught her eye. A man lunged in after her, his shoulder bumping into hers as her suitcase wobbled dangerously.

“Sorry—” he started, a breathless chuckle in his voice. He straightened, brushing an imaginary wrinkle from his crisp suit.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Lena barely spared him a glance. “No worries.”

And then, everything stopped.

The elevator jerked violently. The lights flickered once, twice, then steadied. The hum of movement vanished.

Lena’s stomach clenched. A thick, loaded silence filled the small space.

She pressed the button repeatedly. Nothing.

“Oh, no. No, no, no,” she muttered, pressing her palm against the cool metal doors as if she could will them open.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Beside her, the man let out a deep sigh and leaned against the wall. “Classic. Always when you’re in a rush.”

Lena finally turned to him fully. Sharp blue eyes. Tousled blond hair. A suit that looked like it belonged on a magazine cover.

A Hallmark movie hero, if she’d ever seen one.

“I take it you have somewhere important to be?” he asked, his lips quirking in amusement.

“A dinner with a friend,” she muttered. “She got married last week. We planned this before I leave town.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

“Ah,” he nodded, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Funny coincidence. The wedding I’m going to is tomorrow.”

Lena blinked. “Wait. You’re—”

“Dylan.” He extended a hand, palm up, as if this was the most normal introduction in the world. “Groom’s best friend. And emergency wedding date seeker.”

Before she could even process that, the intercom crackled overhead.

“Uh, folks? Seems like we’ve got a small power outage affecting the elevators. We’re working on it. Might take a bit.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Lena closed her eyes briefly. “Perfect.”

Dylan chuckled. “Look on the bright side. At least we’re not alone in here.”

She shot him a look. “Right. Because being stuck with a stranger is somehow better than being stuck alone.”

He shrugged, flashing a lazy grin. “Depends on the stranger, doesn’t it?”

They stood in awkward silence for a moment. The hum of hotel activity beyond the metal doors felt distant, as if they were suspended in time.

Then, out of nowhere, Dylan asked, “So, any chance you’re up for a second wedding in a week?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Lena turned to him slowly, brow raised. “Excuse me?”

“I need a date for the wedding.” He smirked, leaning against the wall like this was just another casual conversation.

“My ex is going to be there, and I’d rather not be the guy sitting alone at the singles table. Think of it as a fake date for a noble cause.”

Lena let out a short laugh. Was this guy serious?

“You’re really asking a total stranger to be your plus-one while we’re trapped in an elevator?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Dylan shrugged, completely unbothered. “So, is it a yes or a no?”

Lena never thought she’d actually go through with it.

The whole thing had sounded ridiculous—a fake date with a man she barely knew, just to help him save face at a wedding. And yet, here she was.

She smoothed her hands down the fabric of her red dress, the one she had almost left hanging in the back of her suitcase.

It wasn’t her usual style—too bold, too eye-catching, too much.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

But something about tonight made her want to be someone else, even if just for a few hours.

Dylan stood beside her, a glass of champagne in one hand, his other resting lightly on the small of her back. Steady, effortless, completely at ease. Unlike her.

She forced a polite smile as yet another guest approached, throwing curious glances her way.

Weddings were strange like that—everyone wanted to know who you were, why you were there, if your presence meant something.

Dylan, on the other hand, played the part perfectly.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

He leaned down, murmuring in her ear, “That woman in the blue dress has been trying to figure out if we’re engaged for the past ten minutes.”

Lena barely stopped herself from laughing. “Should I flash a fake ring just to mess with her?”

His eyes twinkled. “Tempting. But then I’d have to plan an even faker proposal.”

They moved through the ballroom like they had done this a hundred times before—his touch easy, his words charming, his smile like a safety net.

And then there was the dance.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

The moment his fingers laced with hers, the moment he guided her into a slow, fluid rhythm, Lena forgot for a second that this wasn’t real.

His grip was firm but gentle, the kind that told her to trust him. The warmth of his palm against her waist sent an unfamiliar shiver down her spine.

This was pretend. She knew that. But something about the way he looked at her—like she was the only person in the room—made it too easy to forget.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

As the bride and groom swayed in the center of the dance floor, Lena tilted her head up. “So, tell me,” she murmured, “what’s the deal with this ex of yours?”

Dylan took a sip of champagne, and for the first time all night, his smile flickered. Just for a second.

“Maya,” he said, rolling the name on his tongue like it was still a part of him. “We dated for a while. Things got… complicated.”

Lena raised a brow. “Complicated how?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

He exhaled slowly, eyes flicking down to the golden liquid swirling in his glass. “She thought I wasn’t serious enough. That I didn’t have time for her.”

“And did you?”

Dylan paused, then let out a dry chuckle. “Maybe not. But I was trying.”

Before Lena could respond, someone called Dylan’s name.

She turned just in time to see her.

Maya.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Lena didn’t need an introduction to know exactly who she was.

Tall. Poised. Beautiful in that effortless way that made other women feel like they were trying too hard.

Her presence filled the room with a quiet kind of power—like she knew she belonged anywhere she went.

And when she reached Dylan, she hugged him.

Not a casual, polite hug. Not an awkward, we-used-to-date hug.

Something in between. Something that made Lena’s chest tighten in a way it shouldn’t have.

She wasn’t supposed to care. This wasn’t real.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

And yet, it sure as hell felt like it was.

The reception was in full swing—laughter, clinking glasses, music that vibrated through the floor—but Lena barely heard any of it.

Her fingers gripped the stem of her champagne glass a little too tightly as she watched Dylan and Maya across the room.

Too close. Too familiar. Too much. Their voices were low, their expressions unreadable. Whatever they were saying, it wasn’t for her to hear.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

And yet, she couldn’t look away.

This was supposed to be a game. A favor. A night of harmless pretending. But now, her stomach twisted, and she hated the feeling.

A shadow moved beside her. “Everything okay?”

Dylan.

Lena blinked, dragging her gaze from Maya. She forced a smile, the kind that didn’t reach her eyes. “Great. You and Maya catching up?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Dylan’s frown was subtle but there. “Not really. She just wanted to check in.”

Check in. Right.

“Lena,” he started, voice softer now, careful. “You know this isn’t—”

“Not real?” she cut in, her heart hammering. “Yeah. I know.”

The words felt wrong.

She swallowed hard. She needed to leave before she made a fool of herself.

“Thanks for the night, Dylan,” she said, turning on her heel. “But I think I’m done playing pretend.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

And then, she walked away.

Lena had her bag packed before the sun had fully risen. She had spent the night convincing herself that walking away was the right choice. No messy feelings. No unnecessary complications. Just a clean break.

But as she slung her bag over her shoulder and stepped into the hotel lobby, her chest felt heavier than it should. Maybe it was just the lack of sleep. Maybe it was something else.

She headed toward the café, craving caffeine and distraction, but fate had other plans.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

She turned the corner too fast, and suddenly—collision.

Hot coffee sloshed dangerously close to her dress as Dylan stumbled back, gripping his cup to stop the spill.

“Lena?” His voice was a mix of surprise and something else—something unreadable.

She cursed under her breath. Of course. Of course, she had to run into him now.

“I was just—” she started, but Dylan wasn’t buying it.

“Leaving?” His eyes locked onto hers, sharp, searching. “Without saying anything?”

Lena exhaled, torn between pride and something that felt a lot like longing. “It was just supposed to be a one-time thing, right?”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Dylan was silent for a beat, then let out a sharp breath, running a hand through his hair.

“Yeah,” he admitted, voice rough. “That’s what I thought, too.” He hesitated, then took a step closer. “Until I realized I didn’t want it to end.”

Lena’s pulse stumbled. “What?”

“Last night,” he said, his voice softer now, steady, “I watched you walk away, and all I could think about was how much I didn’t want you to go.”

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

Her heart thudded against her ribs. “Dylan—”

“I don’t care about Maya,” he cut in, his tone firm, certain. “I don’t care about anyone else. I care about you.”

Lena wanted to believe him. But doubt—fear—clawed at her. “What if this is just—”

“It’s not,” Dylan interrupted, seeing right through her hesitation. “You feel it, too. Don’t you?”

She swallowed hard.

Yes.

Yes, she did.

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney

So, for once, she stopped overthinking.

She stepped forward, reached up, and kissed him.

A kiss that was warm. Real. Nothing like pretending.

Dylan smiled against her lips. “Does this mean you’ll stay?”

Lena laughed softly. “Maybe. But only if you promise to stop getting us stuck in elevators.”

Dylan chuckled, his hand slipping easily around her waist. “No guarantees.”

And with that, Lena finally let herself fall.

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