The Day Everything Changed

Just a short time after being diagnosed with invasive ductal carcinoma (breast cancer), I underwent a radical bilateral mastectomy. I was just 44 years old.

The morning after my surgery, alone in my hospital room, curiosity got the better of me. I peeked under the bandages and, for the first time since the diagnosis, I cried like a baby. The stitches stretched from armpit to armpit, and where I once had breasts, I now had angry red wounds held together by thick, black stitches. I felt fear. I felt alone. I felt utterly broken.

Healing Is Hard—and Messy

Several years and many surgeries later, I look “normal” in clothes. But underneath, my reconstructed breasts bear the scars of that day and all that followed.

Because chemotherapy and radiation delayed my reconstruction, my skin tightened and had to be stretched painfully to prepare for implants. I lost my nipples in the process, which added to the sense of “otherness” in my own body.

Like most people with scars, I see them, but most days I don’t dwell on them. Some days, I even look in the mirror and smile. My scars are proof I survived. They’re proof I’m kind of a bad ass. A skilled surgeon removed the cancer and pieced me back together. My scars are symbols of closure—they remind me that part of my life is over. I am healed, and I am moving forward.

But What About Dating After a Mastectomy?

Here’s the raw truth: even though I am grateful to be alive, dating after a mastectomy is complicated.

When is the “right time” to tell someone I’m dating about my scars? Do I bring it up early, or wait until we’re serious enough to be talking about marriage? What if I wait too long and he feels blindsided?

I’m not talking about intimacy outside of marriage—what I mean is this: if I’m in a God-honoring relationship that might lead to marriage, when and how do I have that conversation so that it’s open, honest, and respectful?

Even married women face similar fears. I’ve met survivors whose confidence crumbled so much post-mastectomy that it impacted their marriages—not because their husbands stopped loving them, but because they stopped feeling lovable.

People say, “The right man won’t care about your scars.”
And maybe they’re right. But it’s not always that simple.

The Enemy Loves to Use Our Scars Against Us

I believe this: I have an enemy who wants nothing more than to take my scars and use them to hurt me all over again.

He wants me to feel ashamed. He wants me to hide. He wants me to believe I am unworthy of love or intimacy or joy. Because if I let shame win, I won’t step fully into the relationships, confidence, and life God wants for me.

But here’s what else I believe:

Jesus Also Has Scars

After His resurrection, in John 20, Jesus appeared before His followers. And what’s the first thing He did? He showed them His scars.

Why? Because His scars were proof:


Proof of His identity.
Proof of His victory.
Proof of His love.

Scripture tells us our wounds will one day be healed and our bodies will be made perfect in heaven. But Jesus kept His scars. They weren’t marks of shame—they were battle cries of triumph.

Your Scars Are Proof of Victory

Your scars—physical or emotional—tell a story of survival. They’re the places where healing happened.

Yes, they may change how we see ourselves. Yes, they may create fear around dating, marriage, and honesty about our past. But they are also reminders that we made it through.

And as much as Satan wants to use our scars to keep us bound, Jesus uses them to show His glory and bring us closer to Him.

Dating, Marriage, and Confidence After Cancer

Whether you’re single and dating toward marriage or already married and adjusting to life after surgery, know this:

The man God has for you will love you through your scars. Confidence comes when you see yourself the way God does—healed, whole, and loved. Healthy, God-honoring relationships are built on honesty, trust, and grace.

When we find our identity in Christ alone, we stop hiding. We stop apologizing. We let our scars be part of the story, not the end of it.

From Brokenness to Ministry

God allowed me to be broken so I could share these words with you. Your wounds change your destiny—and they give you an opportunity to minister to others.

When we share our stories, we remind other women they aren’t alone. That’s the power of testimony. If you’ve been through cancer, trauma, or anything that’s left you scarred, don’t hide. Speak life into someone else’s darkness.

A Prayer for the Woman Who Feels Unlovable

Lord, thank You for the healing You’ve brought me through. Thank You that my scars—seen and unseen—are not marks of shame but proof of Your victory. Help me see myself as You do: whole, beautiful, and loved. Heal my heart from fear and teach me to live and love with confidence again. Amen.

Final Word

Jesus offers His own scars as comfort. When you look at your wounds, remember—they are also the place where healing happened.

You are not broken. You are not unlovable. You are living proof of victory.

Sister, wear your kick-ass scars with pride.

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Survivor’s Guilt & the Problem of Grace