We all have those insecurities that we are so self conscious of. I’d love to meet one person that doesn’t. It can be the littlest of things to weight gain, crooked teeth, or a longer toe than your big toe (guilty as charged LOL).

My first true insecurity came in 7th grade. It was right before Christmas break in 2007. I started feeling ill and my lymph node on the left side began to swell. But it didn’t stop. It kept growing. My Doctor could not put his finger on it. It was believed I had contracted mono and while my lymph nodes went to fight they became infected, creating a small lump on my neck. I was then sent to the Ear Nose and Throat Doctor who tried to remove the infection with a huge syringe. He made me name the now identified facial abyss in which I coined her Veronica LOL. My best friends from Middle School started to refereeing to her by name as well. But those extractions didn’t work and surgery was needed. I was terrified but I also think back to myself then and am proud of what I overcome because I couldn’t imagine my reaction now as an adult when you really don’t know what is wrong.

I remember vividly driving to the surgery in my Juicy tracksuit and the Fray came on the radio. How to Save a Life triggered me and I started telling my parents I loved them my family and friends as if I wasn’t coming out (I have always been dramatic). I recovered swiftly, my mom having to wash my hair in the kitchen sink as I laid there on the counter since I couldn’t take showers to prevent getting my neck wet. We had to change the dressing on my neck to keep it clean and I remember having to rub Mederma on it to help with the scarring. I HATED touching my neck because it was nub feeling. To this day I still hate touching it or when others want to feel to see what the scar feels like.

I don’t remember much about what people said or thought right when it happened. I remember I had to wear the dressing on my neck when I returned back to school and I was so nervous to look different. Nothing happened in those initial years that traumatized me. After the surgery though I was diagnosed with cold induced asthma so jumping back into sports was hard. I remember memorizing my moms cell number that year because I had to call her so many times during Athletics freaking out about feeling bad.

Now WARNING. Get ready to see what my neck looked like. No one has ever seen these pictures I have met after this occurred in my life, just the friends and family that knew me then. It’s not gross but felt the need to give the heads up. These as you can soon tell, are straight from my scrapbook I made after the surgery. Did I say before that I was extra?

I see these pictures and it honestly makes me emotional. I cant put into words what the experience was like but today I can say I am thankful to have experienced it as weird as that is.

As I got older in high school and college, I remember people who didn’t know me well asking me if I had a hickey and having to explain it was a scar. Thats when it started to bother me. Sometimes I could catch people looking at my neck and it drove me crazy. As someone who typically likes to blend in, it made me different. And how embarrassing is it to be asked by people if it’s a hickey? No sorry to disappoint but its a scar lol. I didn’t want people to stare at my neck and think what is that or it be a conversation point. I just wanted to be me.

But I soon got over these comments, and today it is not even noticeable unless you are analyzing my face (at least I feel that way). Today, the left side is my “good side” in photos. From being terrified that I would be “ugly” after to surgery to embracing it and it being my power side really is full circle. It taught me to never fear the future, something I should still remind myself off everyday. So never let anyone second guess your beauty because scars tell stories and make you who you are.