Meet Katie — a fierce and fabulous 24-year-old from Selkirk, a small town in the Scottish Borders with a big heart and even bigger resilience. In 2024, Katie underwent life-changing surgery that left her with a urostomy and a set of scars she never asked for — but has since learned to see with pride.
Her story isn’t just about the medical journey, though. It’s about identity, healing, and learning to love the body that carried her through some of the darkest days. As an occupational therapist, Katie now uses her own experience to better connect with and care for others. But more than that, she’s here to share her journey — the messy parts, the emotional rollercoaster, and the beautiful strength that came out the other side.
This is Katie’s story, in her own words.
“Only you can decide what breaks you.”
Hi there, my name’s Katie. I’m 24 and from a small town called Selkirk in the Scottish Borders.
I had a urostomy on the 31st of January 2024. For anyone who doesn’t know, a urostomy is a urinary diversion — it’s when your bladder is either removed or disconnected, and your urine is rerouted from the kidneys through your abdomen using a piece of your bowel. Basically, it’s a stoma, but for urine. It’s not as commonly talked about, which can make it feel even more isolating.
I had open surgery. I’ve been left with a scar that runs from my pubic bone up and around my belly button, plus a separate scar from the surgical drain. I really struggled with my scars at first. They felt messy. I remember looking down while I still had the staples in and just feeling heartbroken. I expected this neat, straight scar — something tidy. But instead, it looked like the staples had just been thrown on. It wasn’t what I envisioned, and it was hard to accept.
But I’ve worked hard on how I view my scar. I see it every time I change my bag or get dressed — it’s always there. And over time, I’ve shifted from seeing it as something ugly to something powerful. Every mark is proof of what I went through and how far I’ve come.
I work as an occupational therapist in the NHS, so my job can be pretty physical. Going back to work after surgery was a huge milestone for me. But honestly? I think going through this made me a better OT. I get my patients now on a much deeper level. I’ve walked a hard path, and that empathy has changed how I show up for others.
My Urostomy Tattoo: Reclaiming My Body and My Story
My scar is still healing — it’s not a quick process. But now, when I look at it, I’m starting to feel proud. It reminds me of what I’ve overcome. I’m even planning my next tattoo, which will sit just above my stoma bag. It’s going to say “Only you can decide what breaks you,” curved gently above the bag. I think that’s such a beautiful reminder. Yes, I went through something massive. Yes, I have permanent scars. But they don’t have to be sad or ugly. They can be beautiful. They can symbolize growth, not just pain.
And honestly, I used to hate my scar. Hate is a strong word — but I felt it. I didn’t want to look at it. It reminded me of everything I’d lost, everything I’d endured. But I’m changing that now. Every time I look in the mirror or change my bag, I want that reminder: “You survived. You did that. You’re living better now.”
“The fight is still in you.”
Why I’m Proud of My Urostomy and My Scars
Before the surgery, life was awful. I was in a bad place with my bladder and my mental health. I even got a tattoo back then — a message from past me to future me. It says “The fight is still in you,” and it’s on my arm where I can see it every day. It reminds me that even when things sucked, even when I was broken, there was still a spark in me. That same fight got me through surgery, through recovery, and into this new, fuller life.
Scars are part of that journey now. They’re the roadmap of where I’ve been. It wasn’t a straight line — it was messy, winding, painful — but it brought me here. And this? This is a beautiful place to be.
But here’s what I really want people to hear: it’s okay if you don’t love your scars right away. It’s okay to look at them and think, “I hate this. I hate what it represents.” That doesn’t make you ungrateful or weak. Trauma is trauma — even if you were prepared, it still hits hard.
But you can change the way you see those scars. You can grow into a place of pride. You can love what once broke you. Scars are proof that we fought and that we won. We as women are unbelievably strong.
The Power in Sharing
Katie’s story reminds us that healing isn’t always linear — and that’s okay. The scars we carry, both seen and unseen, are part of our becoming. They’re not just reminders of what hurt us —they’re proof we survived. That we’re still here. That we chose to keep going. Whether you’re at the beginning of your journey or somewhere in the messy middle, know this: your pain has power, and your story deserves to be heard.
If you want to keep up with the amazing Katie Highton you can find her shining her light @katieostomate_
Share Your Story — Help Someone Else Heal
Are you a woman who’s been through surgery, trauma, or scarring — and come out the other side?
You don’t have to be “fully healed” to share your journey. You just need a voice — and the courage to use it.
Your story can help someone else feel seen. It can show another woman that she’s not alone, that healing is possible, and that scars can be beautiful too.
Want to share your Scarred and Fabulous story? Fill in the form below and I’ll get back to you asap.
By the way: If you wish to remain anonymous, that’s totally ok. 🩷
