I slowly undress my clothes. Taking off my shirt, I intensely watch it fall to the ground and so do my bright, hazel eyes. I am unable to lift them up to check out my new body. Shame, sadness, anger, disappointment, and discomfort are just some of the feelings that take over my mind. My thoughts are racing. The negativity pouring in:

“How can I recognize my naked self when I don’t recognize myself with clothing?”

“I am deformed.”

“I am as flat as a pancake.”

“Ray won’t find me attractive anymore.”

“I am scarred.”

Keeping my eyes lowered, I walk into the shower. I pour my soap on my washcloth and as I bring it to my skin as the tears begin to fall. I don’t feel the same. My skin under my right armpit tingles to the touch.

I am not the same.

There is a cut where my right breast used to be.

I am flat and scarred.

A long surgical line has taken the place of my right breast.

Whose body is this?

It is not me.

I scream.

I cry.

I cuss at God because this body is not me.

I felt a sense of emotional release as I walked out of the shower. I stepped back in front of the mirror and challenged myself to look up for ten seconds. As I did, a strong urge to throw up came over me.

My head hanging in the trash can and eyes full of tears, I could not understand why I was so attached to my breast now when I never cared for them previously. I decided at that moment to regain my self-worth.

I repeated this exercise and complimented myself daily. The more I forced myself to stare at my body in the mirror, the easier it became to accept the changes. I could look at myself for a longer period of time and I was not disgusted with the person staring back at me.

Breast cancer has taken me on a spiritual journey. I am on a pursuit to find my real self, happiness, and peace.

Michael Beckwith helped me to discover the deeper meaning of “ I am not my body. I have a body.” Taking on the perspective that I am infinite consciousness having a human experience, allowed me to embrace my scars and see them as a mark of my healing.

My scars tell my story.

They are a reflection of the sadness and anger that was leading my life. My scars represent the powerful beginning of my cancer journey.

This body shifted me to the Niya I was born to be. This body guides my spiritual transformation.

I no longer see my scars as a vision of cancer and death, but as a symbol of the beautiful second chance, I was given at life. I am grateful for my scars because they taught me to set my ego aside and inspired me to live a life of compassion, gratitude, and abundance. My scars challenged me to love myself and to embrace my uniqueness.

We all have scars whether physical, mental, or emotional. These scars can make us or break us. It is our responsibility to find the beauty of life and survival in our scars to help us transform and grow.