Have you ever felt like your identity was on trial? Or your self-image or self-esteem?

When my family boarded a cruise ship this week for vacation, we turned on the safety channel as soon as we got to our stateroom. Everyone wanted to know if they were still playing the video which I’d made with Norwegian Cruise Lines back in 2012–an instructional video meant to teach the passengers what to do in the unlikely event of an emergency. I looked straight into the camera and taught the cruisers how to have the safest experience possible.

We switched on the set and turned the channel to four. And there I was! There I was on the TV! Well, it was the ‘old me’… before cancer, before my facial scarring, body scarring, and speech impediment. I haven’t worked as a host or a model since a tumor on the back of my tongue took my career and threatened my life.

My voice rang out of the TV clear as a bell. My face was perfectly symmetrical, gorgeous even. I had beautiful diction and elocution. I walked with a confident gait from the pool to the fire screen doors, pointing out every possible hazard in a serious-but-adorable way.

I grinned, everyone smiled, and they patted me on the back for a job well done.

But inside, I missed my beautiful, perfect face and voice. Modeling, acting, hosting, voiceover work, and musicals came to a screeching halt when the doctors removed the tumor, along with half of my tongue. When I awoke from surgery, I was no longer the ‘me’ I’d known for so many years. Doctors harvested skin, muscle and bone from my leg to rebuild my jaw and tongue.

Long, wide scarring marred my calf and my thigh. I had a feeding tube put into my belly and lost the teeth on the lower left side of my mouth. A tracheotomy kept me breathing for the nine-day stay in the hospital, putting a large hole in the center of my neck. A long, thick guillotine scar ran from the center of my lip down my neck and around to my left ear. The swelling took about a year to go down, giving me a puffed out, marshmallow face for months.

Just about every body part that had given me beauty and talent had been somehow marred by cancer. Chemo and radiation further affected my jaw and my vocal folds—burning the voice that had given me a career for years. Much of my impressive vocal stamina disappeared, and my jaw shrunk–preventing my mouth from opening wide. My salivary glands got microwaved, so normal activities like chewing, eating, and singing became monumental obstacles.

My self-image was put on trial, and I was the defendant, the prosecutor, the defense attorney, and the judge.

Who was this person? Everything I knew about her was changing, and whether she was a Nobody or a Somebody was yet to be determined.

What will I do without my hard-earned toolkit of perfect looks and perfect voice? That person I was took 40 years to develop. I was the team player on set; the one-take wonder in the studio. But who would I be now? Even if this wasn’t my fault, was I worthy of love?

I had every reason to feel terrible about me.

But I didn’t. In fact, I grew to absolutely love myself! How was it possible?

There was a whisper in my ear. Was it the Universe? Was it the Holy Spirit? Whatever it was, it met every discouraging, disparaging thought with Stop. Wait. Just wait and see. I know today seems bad, but just wait until you see! Life is going to be bigger. It’s going to be better. It’s going to be more beautiful than you’ve ever imagined.

When outward identity is stripped away, it’s like a brush fire that consumes a forest… a monumental loss, but everything that burns down nourishes the ground for growth. Then we have the right type of soil to plant something absolutely magnificent.

All of us have the voice of the Universe in our ears trying to coach us into believing that we are beautiful exactly as we are, no matter what happens to us. It’s a whisper saying, what’s going on right now is the best possible thing that could be. That energy is a reflection of our true selves. It’s a window to the important kind of beauty in our hearts. All of us hear it, but some of us are better at blocking it than others. It’s easier to hear the clang of our ego telling us we aren’t worthy.

Throughout my cancer treatment, I began to listen more carefully to the spiritual coach in my mind. My thoughts transformed. Every bullet to my beauty and talent was infused with meaning. I knew I was not a picture-perfect beauty. But I also knew I was still beautiful in a much more impactful and relatable way.

Some folks expected my speech impediment to disable me as a professional speaker. But it has truly enabled me to reach more people than ever before, with millions of video views online. We all have the opportunity to use our unique experiences to make the world a better place!

This article originally appeared in the Autumn 2019 issue of CHOICES Magazine