Brooklinn Khoury, a well-known influencer who rose to prominence following a harrowing dog attack back in 2020, has been chronicling her journey to recovery on various social media platforms. With an impressive following of over 450,000 on Instagram, Khoury has garnered significant support and has also shared her inspiring story through vlogs on her YouTube channel, becoming a beacon of motivation for countless individuals to never abandon their aspirations.
The trajectory of this woman’s life was forever altered in the blink of an eye. Renowned professional skateboarder Brooklinn Khoury recently took to social media to unveil the results of her latest reconstructive surgery. Having endured a traumatic pit bull attack that resulted in the loss of her upper lip and a portion of her nose, the 23-year-old has undergone an arduous series of seven surgeries aimed at reconstructing her face.
Through a series of photographs, Khoury proudly exhibits the outcomes of what she hopes will be her final procedure, while also opening up about the emotional journey she has traversed during this process.
“In essence, my doctor is recreating my upper lip during this surgery—fashioning a Cupid’s bow and central columns. The goal is to enhance the aesthetic appearance of my lip,” Khoury explained during her interview, revealing that these surgeries usually span the entire day due to her doctor’s meticulous approach. “My doctor is exceedingly cautious and strives for perfection in every aspect.”
According to Khoury, the recovery period following her latest reconstructive surgery may encompass up to six weeks. She disclosed that she would experience temporary numbness in her upper lip immediately after the procedure, with the possibility of sensation returning over a span of four months.
Surgeries have now become an integral part of Brooklinn’s life. Having survived the pit bull attack, she now finds herself in a perpetual patient-doctor relationship with a plastic surgeon—a circumstance that presents both physical and mental challenges.
Despite her doctor’s renowned pursuit of perfection, Khoury maintains no specific expectations regarding the final appearance of her face following the reconstructive surgeries.
“My personal aspiration, just like with any surgery I undergo, is to learn to embrace and love what I see,” she shared. “Previously, I would fixate on insignificant details that held no real significance. For instance, right before the attack, I was insecure about a pimple on my upper lip. And then, within minutes, my entire lip was gone.”
Brooklinn has emerged as a genuine inspiration, touching the lives of many with her unwavering optimism. On her Instagram account, she continues to share the progress of her recovery, imparting a sense of hope and resilience to her followers. In one of her posts, she writes, “Nearly three weeks post-op! The healing process is progressing admirably. Still experiencing some swelling, but I feel incredibly blessed with the results!”
“I have always possessed confidence and never truly cared about my physical appearance. I genuinely love myself and the way I look. However, society doesn’t always align with my perspective,” she revealed, explaining her decision to openly share her story on social media despite the occasional judgmental glances and critical comments she encounters.
“For me personally, there’s no point in harboring self-consciousness, and I believe that posting on social media has definitely aided in my healing process,” Khoury expressed. “On social media, I am transparent and authentic. What you see is what you get.”
My Husband’s Cousin Came to Stay with Us Temporarily with Her Child – If Only I Had Known It Was All a Setup
When Derek’s cousin Daisy and her son arrive, it seems like an innocent favor. But strange comments, awkward glances, and hidden tension hint at a darker truth. Then comes the devastating revelation: Daisy isn’t his cousin, and Patrick isn’t his nephew. Shattered by betrayal and blindsided by lies, Rebecca is forced to unravel the secrets her husband tried to bury. Can trust survive a truth this explosive, or is it already too late?
When my husband told me his cousin Daisy and her son Patrick needed a place to stay for a couple of weeks, I didn’t think twice. He said they’d fallen on hard times and just needed a little help to get back on their feet.
“Of course,” I said. “Family is family.”
A woman and her son sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
I mean, really? Before Derek and I were married, I had financial issues, too. It had been a struggle and a half to get myself out of my study loan debt, among other things.
So, what would it say about me if I didn’t reach out to help my husband’s family?
That was a month ago. If only I knew how deeply those words would cut.
A woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
When Daisy and Patrick arrived, everything seemed fine. At first, Daisy was polite but reserved, and I chalked it up to shyness. She wasn’t particularly warm toward me, but toward Derek?
She was a different person altogether!
She was animated, laughing at his jokes and chatting like they’d known each other forever. I ignored the faint flicker of discomfort that rose in my chest.
A smiling woman | Source: Midjourney
They were family.
Right?
Patrick, though, was another story. At first, he was just an energetic eight-year-old. But within days, he turned into a whirlwind of chaos.
A little boy playing with his toys | Source: Midjourney
Crumbs littered the living room floor, sticky handprints appeared on the walls, and his toys became landmines scattered across the house.
The worst part?
He didn’t listen. I once asked him to clean up after himself, and he threw a tantrum, flinging cushions from the couch.
“You’re not my mother!” he shrieked. “I don’t listen to you!”
I finally had enough one evening.
An upset little boy | Source: Midjourney
“Patrick,” I said firmly, abandoning the light and caring attitude I wanted to initially use with him. “I need you to understand that you’re a guest here. Act properly. Behave. This isn’t your home.”
His reply made my stomach drop.
“No, Rebecca,” he said, spitting out my name. “My mom told me this is our home now.”
I stared at him, unsure if I’d heard him right.
A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney
Excuse me?
It had to be a misunderstanding, I told myself. Kids misinterpret things all the time, and Daisy probably said it to make the move easier on him.
But his words stayed with me, a tiny splinter in the back of my mind.
The real unraveling began a week later, during a casual lunch with Derek’s sister, Ashley. She’d come by to invite us to a family dinner, and the three of us were sitting outside, enjoying lemonade and plates of spaghetti. Daisy had taken Patrick for ice cream and a walk to the park.
A little boy holding an ice cream cone | Source: Midjourney
At some point, she turned to me with a warm smile.
“You’re a saint for letting them stay here, Becca,” she said.
I waved her off with a laugh, spearing a meatball with my fork.
“Stop it! It’s your family. How could I turn your cousin and nephew away? Why wouldn’t I let them stay?”
A plate of food | Source: Midjourney
Her fork froze midway to her mouth.
“Wait. So he didn’t tell you?” she gasped.
My chest tightened.
“Tell me what? Ash? Derek?”
Ashley’s eyes darted to Derek, who was suddenly very interested in his glass of lemonade.
A man sitting at a table | Source: Midjourney
“Oh, my god. Becca…” she whispered. “You really don’t know…”
“Know what?” My voice wavered as the splinter in my mind turned into a dagger.
Ashley’s face paled.
“Daisy isn’t our cousin, Becca,” she blurted out. “She’s Derek’s ex-girlfriend. And Patrick? He’s their son.”
The room tilted.
A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney
I had to grip hard onto the edge of the table to steady myself, my pulse pounding in my ears.
“What are you talking about?” I croaked, though deep down, I already knew the answer.
Ashley looked stricken.
“I thought you knew, Becca! Derek told the whole family he’d explained everything to you. Our mother told him that he had to tell you the truth before you got married. Daisy was raising Patrick with her then-boyfriend, but Derek was sending child support to them!”
A talking older woman | Source: Midjourney
She sighed deeply, remorse filling her lungs. I knew she hated being the one to tell me.
Then, her gaze snapped to him.
“You said you told her!”
Derek didn’t meet my eyes. My stomach churned as every odd moment from the past month clicked into place.
An upset woman | Source: Midjourney
Daisy’s reserved demeanor around me, her easy laughter with Derek, Patrick’s defiant declaration. I felt like the biggest fool on earth.
I stood abruptly, my chair scraping against the floor.
“You have to get back to work. I have to clean up here and log onto a meeting. I will be at your office in two hours. And you’re going to explain everything.”
Derek’s face clouded and then cleared. He nodded.
An upset man sitting at a table | Source: Midjourney
“Fine. I’ll push my meetings, Becs,” he said, leaving.
“I’m so sorry, Rebecca,” Ashley said, picking up the empty plates. “I truly thought that Derek was a man of his word.”
“It’s not your fault, babe,” I said. “This is on him. But I need you to know that whatever happens next has nothing to do with you. Okay?”
She nodded meekly and began to wash the dishes.
A woman busy at the sink | Source: Midjourney
At Derek’s office, I waited in a small conference room, my heart still hammering. When Derek walked in, he looked like he’d aged ten years in the span of an hour.
He sat across from me, his shoulders slumped.
“Start talking,” I demanded.
He exhaled shakily, avoiding my gaze.
A conference room | Source: Midjourney
“Yes, Daisy is my ex-girlfriend,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “And Patrick is my son.”
The words hit like a wrecking ball.
“You lied to me,” I said. “You looked me in the eyes and lied. You allowed me to set up the guest room, to turn my home office into a makeshift kid’s room? You watched all of that, and you didn’t think about telling me the truth?”
A cozy guest bedroom | Source: Midjourney
“I didn’t know how to tell you, Becca,” he stammered. “It was years before we met. Daisy and I broke up before Patrick was born. I’ve always supported him financially, but I kept my distance. When Daisy reached out, she said that she needed help. And I felt obligated. That’s my son, after all.”
“Obligated?” I spat. “You lied to me about who they are! You let me believe they were your cousin and nephew! Do you have any idea how humiliating this is?”
“I know,” he said, tears pooling in his eyes. “But I was scared. I thought it would push you away. I thought it would be easier this way. I’m sorry. I’ll tell Daisy and Patrick to leave tonight if that’s what you want.”
An upset woman | Source: Midjourney
His desperation might’ve softened me on any other day, but right then, it only made me angrier.
“They should’ve left the moment this charade started. You’ve disrespected me in every way possible.”
He didn’t try to argue.
“You’re right,” he whispered. “I’ll fix this.”
The next few days were excruciating.
An upset man | Source: Midjourney
Daisy avoided me entirely, and Patrick kept to his room, his usual chaos replaced by an eerie silence.
Derek threw himself into damage control, arranging for Daisy and Patrick to move into a rental while simultaneously begging for my forgiveness.
I confronted Daisy once, though.
“Why would you go along with this lie?” I demanded, watching her make her way through my kitchen while she made a sandwich.
A woman standing in a kitchen | Source: Midjourney
She flushed with shame, almost dropping the jar of mayonnaise.
“I didn’t want to lie,” she said softly. “But Derek thought it would be easier. I’m sorry. I never wanted to cause problems.”
Her apology didn’t heal the wound, but it clarified one thing for me:
This disaster was Derek’s making.
A jar of mayonnaise | Source: Midjourney
Once Daisy and Patrick moved out, the house felt unbearably quiet.
Derek tried everything to make amends. He left me notes apologizing for his lies, attended therapy on his own, and took on every household chore without being asked.
His remorse was evident, but my trust in him had been shattered.
A man busy in the kitchen | Source: Midjourney
It took weeks of reflection, long conversations with my best friend, Sharon, and more than a few sleepless nights before I made my decision.
“Just know what you’re getting into, Becca,” Sharon said, stirring her matcha latte. “I’ll support you, of course, but please, think about it from all sides.”
One evening, I called Derek into the living room. He sat across from me, his face tense with anticipation.
A matcha latte | Source: Midjourney
“I’m not ready to forgive you, D,” I began, my voice steady. “But I’m willing to try.”
Relief washed over his face, but I held up a hand.
“This is your last chance, Derek,” I said firmly. “No more lies. No more half-truths. If you want this marriage to survive, you have to earn back my trust.”
“I will,” he said, his voice thick and heavy. “I promise.”
A woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney
Rebuilding our marriage won’t be easy, and part of me wonders if it’s even possible.
But for now, I’m taking it one day at a time. I’ve learned one thing through all of this. Trust isn’t something you can take for granted.
It’s fragile.
As for Derek? He’s on thin ice. And if he thinks I’ll ignore the warning signs ever again, he’s dead wrong.
So now, I have to figure out how to be a stepmother.
A close up of a couple | Source: Midjourney
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