With an unmatched amount of self-assurance, Goldie Hawn never lets her admirers down with her elegance, even in the face of hateful comments from the internet.
The performer, who acknowledges that “there’s a certain reality” for aging Hollywood stars, does not let the insults and derogatory remarks from trolls bother her.
Given that she is one of the most well-known actors in the business and that Kurt Russell is smitten with her, it should come as no surprise that the 78-year-old seems unfazed.
Discover why Goldie Hawn is being criticized harshly online by reading on!
Goldie Hawn is a formidable woman, leading a famous family that includes the well-known actors Oliver (47), Kate Hudson (45), and Wyatt Russell (37).
Hawn’s girl-next-door charm earned her prominent parts in movies including Private Benjamin (1980), Overboard (1987) with Kurt Russell, with whom she has been in a relationship since 1983, and Stephen Spielberg’s The Sugarland Express (1972).
Photo agency Shutterstock/Featureflash
Before meeting the now 73-year-old Russell, Hawn went through two divorces. In 2007, she explained their decision to forgo marriage to Woman’s Day, saying, “We have done just perfectly without marrying.” I already feel committed, and isn’t that the whole point of marriage?
Additionally, Kate, who received a Golden Globe nomination for her role in Almost Famous, maintains that the two are a perfect match.
“Mom is a butterfly and she moves quickly. Pa also enjoys his house and his family. But, Hudson says of her mother and stepfather—who also have an actor for a son—”When they’re together, it’s so powerful.”
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It’s wonderful to know you’re getting older.
“Belongs in a nursing home.”
“So adorable together”
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It’s wonderful to know you’re getting older.
“Belongs in a nursing home.”
“So adorable together”
It’s wonderful to know you’re getting older.
With her renowned golden locks remaining natural, the Oscar-winning Hawn remains attractive even after over fifty years of acting and raising three children.
“Aging is a natural part of life. Living intentionally helps you recognize that life is full of transformations, which you simply have to go through, the celebrity told People. “You know what, it’s great that you’re getting older? It means you’re still alive!”
However, she is well aware of the ageism that permeates the field and its supporters.
Shutterstock is credited.
Regarding the ageism present in Hollywood, Hawn stated that women will always fight this war.
Do you really believe that you will oppose the system? When you turn forty-five, you believe you’re going to show Hollywood that you’re still a desirable, marketable object? No. A specific world exists,” Hawn informs Bazaar. Does it infuriate me? No. I don’t get irritated easily. I’m not an extremist. Anger is a useless emotion. It isn’t beneficial.
The First Wives Club actress accepts her advanced age, but she is unable to avoid the barrage of abuse that surfaces on social media.
“Belongs in a nursing home.”
The happy couple took a little trip to Greece in 2022, where they were seen having a great time by the sea in a number of pictures.
While her leading guy wore a basic pair of black and white board shorts, Hawn looked stylish in a black and white polka dot sundress over a one-piece black swimming suit.
Off the coast of Skiathos, Greece, the grandparents, who appeared to be in their honeymoon phase, slipped into a speedboat and rode through the crystal-clear Aegean Sea.
The internet community аttасked the stunning blonde and her charming beau without holding back, instead of praising the couple for their self-assurance and undying love.
“They appear as though they belong in a retirement community. They both appear really ancient, and while I can appreciate that they are older, [it] seems likе they didn’t age well,” a critic remarks.
Another says, “No, not attractive,” while a third writes, “Can you think of a famous person who is naturally ugly? Goldie Hawn.
“OMG-Goldie Hawn will give me nightmares with what she has done with her face,” says another.
“So adorable together”
Many fans stood up for the couple, who most recently made an appearance together as Mr. and Mrs. Claus in The Christmas Chronicles franchise, because of their love.
Someone says, “She looks good.There will be trolls there as well, however they won’t appear as nice.
Outstanding given your age. A considerate netizen writes, “Loving each other still is testament to your commitment to each of you.”
“They are so adorable together right now, that’s what love is all about, growing older together Goldie is as gorgeous as ever,” writes someone else.
But Hawn’s lifelong girlfriend has the sweetest things to say.
“We were planning to go out to dinner the other night. “You’re unbelievable,” he says as he looks at me, the Snatched star recalls. “It’s unbelievable how [beautiful] you look,” he exclaimed.
Shutterstock is credited.
Furthermore, Hawn described the 2017 ceremony that saw the two actors receive their individual stars on the Hollywood Walk of Fame as a “lovefest.”
Following their kiss beside their side-by-side stars at the ceremony, Russell addressed his stunning companion and said, “To you, I owe my amazing life…To put it simply, Goldie, I love you. That is far more impressive than all the stars in the sky or on the boulevard combined. “Goldie Hawn is the only person I’d rather be next to for all of that,” he said.
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I Opened My Garage to a Homeless Woman—You Won’t Believe What I Found When I Walked In Unannounced
When a rich man, who feels emotionally distant, gives shelter to Lexi, a homeless woman, he becomes intrigued by her strength. Their unexpected friendship starts to grow—until one day he walks into his garage without knocking and finds something shocking. Who is Lexi really, and what is she hiding?
I had everything money could buy: a big house, fancy cars, and more wealth than I could ever use in a lifetime. Yet, inside, I felt an emptiness I couldn’t fill.
I had never had a family since women always seemed to want me only for the money I got from my parents. At sixty-one, I often wished I had made different choices.
I tapped the steering wheel absentmindedly, trying to shake off the familiar weight on my chest. That’s when I spotted a messy woman bent over a trash can.
I slowed the car, unsure why I even bothered. People like her were everywhere, right? But there was something about the way she moved, her thin arms digging through the garbage with a grim determination that tugged at something inside me.
She looked fragile but fierce, like she was holding on to life by sheer willpower.
Before I knew it, I had pulled over. The engine hummed as I rolled down the window, watching her from the safety of my car.
She looked up, startled. Her eyes widened, and for a moment, I thought she might run. But she didn’t. Instead, she straightened up, brushing her hands on her faded jeans.
“Do you need some help?” I asked, my voice sounding strange to me. I wasn’t the kind of person to talk to strangers or invite trouble into my life.
“You offering?” There was a sharpness in her voice, but also a tiredness, like she’d heard every empty promise before.
“I don’t know.” The words tumbled out before I could think. I stepped out of the car. “I just saw you there, and it didn’t seem right.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, her gaze fixed on mine. “What’s not right is life.” She let out a bitter laugh. “And cheating, no-good husbands in particular. But you don’t seem like someone who knows much about that.”
I winced, even though I knew she was right.
“Maybe not.” I paused, unsure how to continue. “Do you have a place to go tonight?”
She hesitated, her eyes darting away for a second before locking back onto mine. “No.”
The word hung in the air between us. That was all I needed to hear.
“Look, I have a garage. It’s more like a guest house. You could stay there until you get back on your feet.”
I expected her to laugh in my face, to tell me to go away. But instead, she blinked at me, the edges of her tough exterior starting to crack.
“I don’t take charity,” she said, her voice quieter now, more vulnerable.
“It’s not charity,” I replied, though I wasn’t entirely sure what it was. “It’s just a place to stay. No strings attached.”
“Okay. Just for a night,” she replied. “I’m Lexi, by the way.”
The drive back to my house was quiet. She sat in the passenger seat, staring out the window, her arms wrapped around herself like a shield.
When we arrived, I led her to the garage-turned-guest-house. It wasn’t fancy, but it was enough for someone to live in.
“You can stay here,” I said, pointing to the small space. “There’s food in the fridge, too.”
“Thanks,” she muttered.
Over the next few days, Lexi stayed in the garage, but we saw each other for meals. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but something about her pulled at me.
Maybe it was how she kept going despite everything life threw at her, or perhaps the loneliness in her eyes, which mirrored my own. Maybe it was just the simple fact that I didn’t feel so alone anymore.
One night, as we sat across from each other at dinner, she began to open up.
“I used to be an artist,” she said softly. “Well, I tried to be. I had a small gallery, a few shows… but it all fell apart.”
“What happened?” I asked, genuinely curious.
She laughed, but it was a hollow sound. “Life happened. My husband left me for a younger woman he got pregnant and kicked me out. My whole life unraveled after that.”
“I’m sorry,” I muttered.
She shrugged. “It’s in the past.”
But I could tell it wasn’t, not really. The pain was still there, just below the surface. I knew that feeling all too well.
As the days passed, I found myself looking forward to our conversations.
Lexi had a sharp wit and a biting sense of humor that cut through the gloom of my empty house. Slowly, the hollow space inside me seemed to shrink.
It all changed one afternoon. I had been rushing around, trying to find the air pump for one of my cars. I barged into the garage without knocking, expecting to grab it quickly and leave. But what I saw stopped me cold.
There, spread across the floor, were dozens of paintings. Of me.
Or rather, grotesque versions of me. One painting showed me with chains around my neck, another with blood pouring from my eyes. In the corner, there was one of me lying in a casket.
I felt a wave of nausea wash over me. This was how she saw me? After everything I’d done for her?
I backed out of the room before she noticed me, my heart pounding.
That night, as we sat down for dinner, I couldn’t shake the images from my mind. Whenever I looked at Lexi, all I could see were those horrific portraits.
Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore.
“Lexi,” I said, my voice tight. “What are those paintings?”
Her fork clattered to the plate. “What are you talking about?”
“I saw them,” I said, my voice rising despite my efforts to stay calm. “The paintings of me. The chains, the blood, the coffin. What the hell is that?”
Her face went pale. “I didn’t mean for you to see those,” she stammered.
“Well, I did,” I said coldly. “Is that how you see me? As some monster?”
“No, it’s not that.” She wiped her eyes, her voice shaky. “I was just… angry. I’ve lost everything, and you have so much. It wasn’t fair, and I couldn’t help it. I needed to let it out.”
“So you painted me like a villain?” I asked sharply.
She nodded, shame etched on her face. “I’m sorry.”
I sat back, letting the silence stretch between us. I wanted to forgive her. I wanted to understand. But I couldn’t.
“I think it’s time for you to go,” I said flatly.
Lexi’s eyes widened. “Wait, please—”
“No,” I interrupted. “It’s over. You need to leave.”
The next morning, I helped her pack her things and drove her to a nearby shelter. She didn’t say much, and neither did I. Before she stepped out of the car, I handed her a few hundred dollars.
She hesitated but then took the money with trembling hands.
Weeks passed, and I couldn’t shake the feeling of loss. Not just because of the disturbing paintings, but because of what we had before. There had been warmth and connection — something I hadn’t felt in years.
Then, one day, a package arrived at my door. Inside was a painting, but this one was different. It wasn’t grotesque or twisted. It was a serene portrait of me, captured with a peace I hadn’t known I possessed.
Tucked inside the package was a note with Lexi’s name and phone number scrawled at the bottom.
My finger hovered over the call button, my heart beating faster than it had in years. Getting worked up over a phone call felt silly, but there was so much more riding on it than I wanted to admit.
I swallowed hard and hit “Call” before I could second-guess myself. It rang twice before she picked up.
“Hello?” Her voice was hesitant, like she sensed it could only be me.
I cleared my throat. “Lexi. It’s me. I got your painting… it’s beautiful.”
“Thank you. I wasn’t sure if you’d like it. I figured I owed you something better than… those other paintings.”
“You didn’t owe me anything, Lexi. I wasn’t exactly fair to you, either.”
“You had every right to be upset.” Her voice was steadier now. “What I painted — those were things I needed to get out of me, but they weren’t really about you. You were just… there. I’m sorry.”
“You don’t need to apologize, Lexi. I forgave you the moment I saw that painting.”
Her breath hitched. “You did?”
“I did,” I said, and I meant it. It wasn’t just the painting that had changed my mind; it was the feeling that I had let something meaningful slip away because I was too scared to face my pain. “And… well, I’ve been thinking… maybe we could start over.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, maybe we could talk. Maybe over dinner? If you’d like.”
“I’d like that,” she said. “I’d really like that.”
We made plans to meet in a few days. Lexi told me she used the money I gave her to buy new clothes and get a job. She was planning to move into an apartment when she got her first paycheck.
I couldn’t help but smile at the thought of having dinner with Lexi again.
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