In a world obsessed with appearance, it’s easy to let physical differences define you. For years, I lived under the comfort of stereotypical beauty, unaware of the journey that awaited me. But in 2019, at the age of 25, my life took an unexpected turn overnight when I underwent surgery to remove a brain tumor. I suffered a stroke during the surgery, which left me unable to walk or write and left me feeling like the world was constantly moving.
Due to nerve damage, the right side of my face was also permanently paralyzed. When I woke up, everything was different – mainly the way I saw the world and the way the world saw and treated me. I was terrified not only by the enormity of the journey ahead of me, but also by what the rest of my life held.
In 2020 I was the first person in the UK to undergo pioneering SMILE surgery, which involved transferring nerves and blood vessels from my right calf to my upper lip, giving strength to the affected side.
The results were not immediate and it took another three years of physical therapy before she was able to smile and move her chewing muscles again, but over time the surgery helped her regain some of the facial expressions she had lost when she woke up unable to communicate with her right side.
From the moment my facial paralysis began, I was constantly struggling between accepting who I am and succumbing to the unrealistic standards set by social media. I felt an unspoken expectation to hide or minimize aspects of my appearance that deviated from the norm, and I was doing my best to erase the differences caused by my stroke with smile surgery.
But the surgery didn’t make it go away completely, and I will always have facial paralysis, but looking back, I can see this as a positive thing – a testament to my journey, which has been marked by strength, resilience and self-acceptance.
Before my facial nerve damage, my appearance fit into a mold that society considered acceptable, and I never questioned my self-worth based on my appearance. But that all changed when I turned 25 and saw visible differences. Suddenly, I was faced with stares, whispers, and the harsh reality that I no longer fit the traditional definition of physical beauty. When I no longer attracted negative attention or questions about why my mouth was “crooked” just by walking down the street, I realized just how much importance was placed on appearance.
Socializing and meeting new people, something I’d done effortlessly before, became difficult, and I often felt completely shunned because others were insecure about my differences and didn’t know what to say.
At first, I struggled to reconcile my new appearance with my self-consciousness. Inside I felt the same, but trapped in a cage I couldn’t recognize. I lamented the loss of the look I once had. I realized I’d never fully appreciated it, and I suffered from anxiety and self-doubt.
Being part of the Instagram generation magnified my unhappiness and insecurity about my visible differences. The pressure to conform to the unrealistic beauty standards seen on social media felt overwhelming. I was constantly bombarded with images of perfect faces and perfect lives. Seeing photos of others online, especially seeing people my age buying houses, traveling, getting engaged, and doing things that were unattainable for me at the time, intensified my struggles with self-confidence and self-acceptance.
I grew up thinking these things were synonymous with appearance and now thought they were unattainable for me. Every time I scrolled through my feed I was reminded of the stark contrast between the curated perfection I saw online and my new look. I compared myself to others and concluded that being different was a bad thing, without fully understanding that everyone is on their own journey in life.
After years of feeling inferior and giving up on life, I found a silver lining: a new appreciation for the beauty in imperfection. For the first two years after my surgery, I was so focused on learning to walk, write, and balance on my own that I didn’t pay enough attention to my differences, and parts of myself allowed themselves to hide behind them. This was even more true during the COVID-19 pandemic, when wearing masks was the norm.
But after going through periods of victim blaming, depression, and feeling completely out of control over the way I looked and the fate I was dealt, I realized that how I reacted was completely within my control. I couldn’t change what happened to me, but only I could define my own worth and choose how my story would unfold.
I knew the only thing holding me back from living a fully happy life was me and my choices, and the decision to not let the way I looked dictate my life was liberating.

My journey to self-acceptance didn’t happen overnight. It required a mindset shift. I stopped looking for validation from others and started embracing my uniqueness. Instead of lamenting the loss of my former looks, I started celebrating the beauty of visible differences. I told myself that my self-worth isn’t determined by societal standards, but by my character, kindness to others, and tenacity. Whenever a comment triggered me, I reminded myself why I look the way I do and that it’s because of the surgery that saved my life.
The most powerful decision I made was to not let negative comments affect me. By not worrying about what other people think of me, I feel a sense of relief knowing that it’s not true. Instead of keeping hurtful words to myself, I decided that people’s opinions were either simply curiosity because I look different or a reflection of their own insecurities, not a measurement of my worth.
I learned that acceptance comes in waves, and it’s okay to have days when you worry about your appearance. Many of us yearn for what we once had or what others appear to have now. We are bombarded with photo filters and artificial intelligence tools that perpetuate the harmful idea that beauty is defined by perfection. And we are typically only shown highlight reels of people’s lives, never learning about the challenges they face. As a result, we end up feeling inadequate and inferior, and like our self-worth is measured by how much we resemble the airbrushed images we see on our screens.
But when we compare, we focus on what we don’t have. So I started making a list of my strengths and achievements that had nothing to do with my appearance. Challenging negative thoughts about my social life and dating prospects helped me realize that my appearance doesn’t determine my worth. In the process, I learned that who I am on the inside far outweighs any judgement on my appearance. As a result, I no longer felt that my external differences were indicative of the friendships and experiences I would have.
As my confidence grew, I began to fully embrace life and no longer hid behind my insecurities. I challenged myself to travel alone again to new places, have new experiences and get out of my comfort zone. I ran a 10k race after I could no longer walk. I paddleboarded after I could no longer stand alone. And after being forced to change jobs due to visual impairment, I started a business helping people overcome adversity.
Since having brain surgery, I’ve met lifelong friends — friends who didn’t know me before — and I’ve actively put myself in situations where I know I’ll likely face comments from others, like volunteering with young children or speaking at schools.
With each accomplishment, my self-esteem grows and each adventure reminds me that we can all do anything we put our mind to. As I opened myself up to connecting with others again, I discovered the beauty of human relationships and learned that everyone has their own story, flaws, and insecurities.

Embracing my visible differences has been a liberating journey, full of challenges, triumphs, and endless self-discovery. When you’re going through a difficult time, you wish it would end because the moment feels unbearable. But I’ve learned that you need to go through it in order for it to shape you. In time, you’ll understand what the pain was for. And when you know it, you won’t let it go to waste.
Through self-acceptance and self-confidence, I learned to celebrate my uniqueness and stopped letting negative comments define me. I accepted myself unashamedly and was ready to face anything life threw at me. When I woke up from brain surgery changed and uncertain about my future, I decided my life wasn’t over. I just had to find a new way to live.
Whatever your appearance or imperfections, your uniqueness is your strength and you deserve to be loved and accepted just the way you are. In a world where authenticity is often overshadowed by filters and retouching tools, it is more important than ever to challenge social norms and redefine beauty on our own terms. It took a visible change to realize that true beauty goes beyond appearances and lies in each individual’s strength, resilience and authenticity. Don’t let anyone tarnish your shine or dim your light. You are enough, just the way you are.
Sammi Taylor is the founder of www.beautybrainuk.com, an award-winning author and keynote speaker. Her mission is to inspire, empower and support people who are overcoming setbacks with tools to build resilience, confidence and acceptance. If you’re looking for ways to increase positivity and change your mindset, sign up for her free tips at www.beautybrainuk.com.
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