12/10/2025
I waited to share this because, truthfully, I wasn’t emotionally ready until now 🤍
Skin cancer, Mohs surgery, a nasal flap reconstruction—it was a lot to move through physically and mentally. I documented every step, but I needed space before I could speak about it without crying, minimizing it, or forcing it into something “inspirational” before I actually felt okay.
I’m sharing not to scare anyone away from a skin check, but to do the opposite — to show what real treatment and real healing can look like.
Skin cancer isn’t always a quick biopsy and a tidy bandage.
Sometimes it’s layers, grafting, swelling, numbness, discoloration, and months of wondering if your face will ever feel like your face again.
You’ll see the photos at the end—every stage, from Mohs to plastic surgery to stitches and early flap healing.
If you’re squeamish, skip them 🙈😬
But if you’ve ever put off a dermatology appointment because it felt unnecessary, dramatic, or “I’m too young for that,” I hope this gently shifts something.
As I’ve been processing, I think God was guiding me to be less vain. Not dramatically, not harshly—just quietly, in a way I couldn’t ignore.
When you can’t control how you look, you learn to be held by something steadier than appearance, and you start seeing worth somewhere deeper than the surface.
I’m grateful I went in when I did.
Grateful for steady hands, slow healing, and the shift I didn’t ask for but clearly needed.
If you’re in this same tender stretch—waiting, healing, trying to recognize yourself again—you’re not alone.
It does settle. It does soften. And you do come back to yourself, changed in a way that feels like truth, not loss.
This isn’t a cautionary tale.
It’s a permission slip—to get checked, to take it seriously, and to feel all the feelings without rushing your healing or your storytelling 🤍
