This interview is based on a conversation with Sarah Hayles, 44, a mining engineer from Queensland, Australia. It has been edited for length and clarity.
In August 2008, at 26, I had routine surgery to remove a pterygium. It’s a tiny, non-cancerous growth on your eye, sometimes known as “surfer’s eye,” which, if left unchecked, could have affected my vision.
As soon as I woke up from the anesthesia, I knew that something wasn’t right. It was incredibly painful, but there was also a dullness in the area, and my eyeball seemed to move more slowly.
At first, it wasn’t too noticeable. But, as the weeks and months went by, my eyelid started to droop, and the eye began to turn.
I had an emergency MRI
I had repeated checkups that turned up nothing and was eventually referred to a top eye specialist in Brisbane, about 600 miles from my home in the Australian outback. He finally saw me in April 2010.
Within 15 minutes, he arranged an MRI for that same night. I asked what he thought could be wrong, and he said it could be something as serious as a brain tumor or multiple sclerosis.
It was absolutely terrifying, but they found no evidence of a tumor and, after two years of testing, ruled out MS. To this day, I still haven’t been diagnosed with anything.
All I know is that I’ve been poked and prodded by doctors and consultants who have performed every test under the sun. Some were traumatic, such as being zapped with electricity to check for nerve damage and a lumbar puncture to analyze my spinal fluid.
The appearance of my eye deteriorated over time. I used to look in the mirror as a 30-something and think it was very noticeable. Still, compared to how it appears now, it wasn’t.
A kind doctor gave me good advice
The experience put me through the wringer. I refused to have my photo taken and thought nobody would want to date or marry me.
Then, in 2013, I saw a kind, grandfatherly doctor who all but held my hand during the appointment. He said that I was beautiful, healthy, and strong, and I needed to find a way to be OK with it.
His advice put an end to all the onerous testing and waiting for definitive results that never came. “I can do this and move on,” I thought to myself.
I had no psychotherapy or counseling, but I did my own research by reading books about having a positive mindset. Slowly, I became more confident.
I met my husband, Brian, 45, a diesel fitter, through mutual friends on Facebook in 2015. It was a whirlwind romance, and we got engaged and married in less than a year.
I’m so glad I have children
Our relationship taught me so much. Focusing on appearances is BS. If you do, you can easily miss the person within.
I’d always wanted to have kids, but in the years immediately following my injury, I changed my mind. I didn’t think I’d have the strength to deal with their school friends pointing at me.
Now that Brian and I have Jack, 8, and Astrid, 6, I can’t imagine life without them. In fact, I think they’ve indirectly benefited from what happened to me.
I’ve raised them not to judge people by the way they look. “It’s all about how someone behaves and how they make you feel,” I say.
Yes, I do get the occasional stare, especially from young children. Sometimes it’s awkward as their parents don’t know what to say, but I give them grace. Nobody is being malicious.
I want to normalize facial injuries
These days, I do a lot of keynote speaking about resilience and how I regained my confidence. I launched my Instagram account to help normalize issues like mine.
I know I could have allowed this facial injury to be something awful that ruined my life, or turned it into a positive. I’m glad I chose the latter.
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