At just 10 years old, I was diagnosed with scoliosis. A word I didn’t fully understand at the time, but one that would shape my journey for years to come. In 2017, my condition progressed, and I was officially diagnosed with thoracic-lumbar scoliosis at a 27° curve. Like many young patients, I was fitted with a Boston brace and instructed to wear it 22–24 hours a day. While I tried my best to adjust, after a month it became clear to me that it wasn’t the right path. I felt trapped, uncomfortable, and discouraged. Hoping to find an alternative, I turned to physical therapy, but eventually stopped that as well. For a time, I decided to let things be, trying to carry on with life as “normal.”
But scoliosis doesn’t pause. Over time, my curve worsened, progressing to 67° with a 25° rib rotation. Along with the physical challenges came emotional ones. My self-esteem crumbled. I found myself constantly comparing my body to the “perfect” images I saw on social media and in the fashion industry. Every photo, every pose, every outfit became a reminder that I didn’t look like everyone else. I stopped wearing certain clothes, avoided turning certain angles in pictures, and even taught myself to Photoshop my body. For years, I couldn’t bear to look in the mirror without feeling broken.
By early 2020, my condition had become impossible to ignore. After consultations with multiple doctors, I was given a choice: continue down the path I was on, or take a leap of faith into spinal fusion surgery. With fear in my heart but hope for a brighter future, I chose surgery. On November 9, 2020, I underwent a six-hour spinal fusion to correct my curve. Eleven screws and two rods were placed from T10 to L3. My curve was reduced from 67° to 13°, and my rib rotation was fully corrected.
The physical transformation was remarkable, but the emotional transformation was even greater. For the first time in years, I could stand tall. I could breathe without the weight of insecurity pressing against me. I realized that I wasn’t alone, that so many others had felt the same pain, the same fear, the same desire to just be “normal.”
This realization became my mission. I no longer saw scoliosis as something that took away from me, but as something that gave me purpose. I wanted to be the role model I once needed, to show other young girls that their diagnosis does not define them, and that beauty is not a rulebook. It’s about confidence, resilience, and self-love.
Today, I carry this mission into everything I do. Through pageantry, I’ve been given a platform to speak about scoliosis awareness, body confidence, and self-acceptance. On stage, I represent every young girl who has ever felt different, overlooked, or “less than.” Off stage, I share my story with honesty and vulnerability, because I know someone out there needs to hear that they are not alone.
Looking back, I see God’s hand in every step of my journey. What once felt like my greatest struggle has become my greatest blessing. My scars tell a story of strength. My voice carries a message of hope. And my heart is forever grateful that I get to use my pain for a purpose, to inspire others to stand tall, embrace who they are, and chase their dreams without limitation.
Because beauty is not a rulebook. It’s a story. One that only you can write.
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