“I Lost Both Of My Legs Because Of A Tampon”, Lauren Wasser Defied the Odds and Became a Prominent Model

Lauren Wasser is a model and activist who has overcome incredible odds to become a prominent figure in the fashion industry. In 2012, Wasser lost both legs due to toxic shock syndrome (TSS) caused by a tampon. Despite this devastating setback, Wasser refused to let it define her. She has since become a vocal advocate for women’s health and safety, using her platform to raise awareness about the dangers of TSS and the need for better menstrual product regulation.

Lauren Wasser grew up in a family of models.

Lauren Wasser was born into the fashion industry in California on March 2, 1988. Her parents were both professional models, and she first appeared in Vogue alongside her mom when she was just 4 months old. Unsurprisingly, the young girl would be drawn to this career path.

She lived a full and active life until she became ill.

Lauren Wasser was a talented basketball player who even received a prestigious athletic scholarship. However, she decided to pursue her modeling career instead. Even so, she maintained an active lifestyle for several years.

https://brightside.me/articles/i-lost-both-of-my-legs-because-of-a-tampon-lauren-wasser-defied-the-odds-and-became-a-prominent-model-814526/?utm_source=tsp_pages&utm_medium=fb_organic&utm_campaign=fb_stories_5minutecraftsusa&fbclid=IwZXh0bgNhZW0CMTAAAR2Ruq2_Jj1GFzFGePnMgq2P0c7LAAt90oe7HHjOlh9nVpQFy2FvLWtDaqw_aem_AaDlPj1yM4hbJyn4trdww2cKaZdTeS9SmgJmCC5u_0SvcoZhbaa9IGH3VPAJaMNQu9v26Sv7sZKC8F_2H79jUvYa

Her world was turned upside down at the young age of 24.

AtThe Diary of a CEOpodcast, Lauren Wasser, age 35, shockingly revealed her harrowing experience by saying, “I lost both of my legs because of a tampon.”

The syndrome results from an overgrowth of Staphylococcus aureus bacteria in the body, which can produce a deadly toxin in the bloodstream. TSS first caught public attention in the United States in the late 1970s when several young women became gravely ill. By the 1980s, the syndrome was infecting people at a rate of approximately 6 in 100,000.

It all started with flu-like symptoms, followed by renal failure and, ultimately, two heart attacks, all due to the rare and life-threatening syndrome. With a slim chance of surviving, doctors had to put Wasser into a medically-induced coma to save her life.

After regaining consciousness a week and a half later, Lauren Wasser shared in a poignant interview, “I woke up a week and a half later and had no idea what had even happened. They pumped me full of 80 pounds of fluid.” Tragically, her situation worsened as gangrene spread, causing her right leg and left foot to be engulfed in searing pain. “From there, my feet were on fire, and gangrene set into my right leg and my left foot. There was no option. I had to amputate my right leg.” Then, in 2018, she faced another heartbreaking setback as her left leg had to be amputated.

Lauren Wasser advocates for TSS awareness and safer menstrual products.

As she spoke out about the dangers of TSS, Lauren Wasser emphasized the harmful constituents of tampons, stating, “[They] are made using chlorine bleach, dioxin, and synthetic fibers, which create the perfect storm in our bodies.”

“I have been working with a mother who lost her teenage daughter to TSS when she was 18 — Madeline Mosby. Through the darkness and trauma of that, we have joined forces in wanting to change the world.”

She returned to modeling and became the “girl with the golden legs.”

“My whole job has been to show that you are enough, and you’re beautiful in the skin you’re in and highlighting your scars and the things that you hate most.” With this resolution in mind, Lauren Wasser decided to return to the modeling industry and started looking for gigs again. While many of her colleagues supported her decision to return to modeling, some doubted whether she could make a successful comeback.

Wasser decided to choose gold-toned prosthetics instead of prosthetics that matched her skin color after entirely accepting her new condition. “Making it my own and giving it life, so to speak, changed my perception,” she said, explaining her choice in an interview. Thus, she became the “girl with the golden legs” and started walking for famous designers again.

Currently, she’s still taking the fashion world by storm and fighting for more inclusivity.

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Following the amputation of her left leg due to chronic pain, the model is now able to lead a more active lifestyle. She has resumed playing basketball, which is her passion and is even preparing for a marathon shortly. Additionally, Wasser’s modeling career is flourishing as she walked for Gabriela Hearst and Louis Vuitton in 2022 and was featured in Lacoste, Furla, and Shiseido campaigns.

https://www.instagram.com/p/CmXbYNGJT8H/?utm_source=ig_embed&ig_rid=f2942bf6-c835-4af0-b9d3-de666ba321dc
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In addition to her thriving modeling career, Wasser remains dedicated to advocating for inclusivity and acceptance of individuals with disabilities and diverse conditions within the fashion industry. Her activism and contributions to the fashion world have earned her a spot on Harper’s Bazaar’s special-edition Women of the Year 2022 covers, alongside other inspiring women.” I’ve worked so hard to be myself and never take ‘no’ for an answer,” is how Lauren Wasser sums up her success.

Lauren Wasser’s incredible journey from tragedy to triumph is just the beginning of a new era in modeling. Stay tuned to learn about 16 more unusual models who are revolutionizing the beauty industry.

Preview photo credit theimpossiblemuse / Instagramtheimpossiblemuse / Instagram

My Brother Left His Newborn Son in My Yard 27 Years Ago – Two Days Ago, He Returned and Blamed Me for It

Twenty-seven years ago, my brother left his newborn son on my doorstep, disappearing without a trace. Now, just as my nephew has become the successful man I always hoped he’d be, my brother has returned, and he’s blaming me for everything.

I’ll never forget that morning 27 years ago. I opened the door, and there he was — a tiny baby bundled in a blanket so thin it barely covered his little body. The fabric was worn and frayed, not nearly enough to keep him warm on that chilly morning. He was lying in a basket, his face red from crying, his fists clenched tight.

A baby in a basket | Source: Midjourney

A baby in a basket | Source: Midjourney

The street was quiet — too quiet. Just the eerie silence of the neighborhood waking up. The only sound left was the baby’s soft whimpers, weak now from crying so much. This helpless child abandoned on my porch — my nephew. I knew it instantly. There was no doubt. My brother had done this.

I knew it, just like I knew he wouldn’t be coming back. Tommy. Always running from his problems, always disappearing when things got hard. He hadn’t been seen for weeks, and now, in the dead of night, he had left his son on my doorstep like an unwanted package.

A woman holding a baby in a basket | Source: Midjourney

A woman holding a baby in a basket | Source: Midjourney

Carl was in the kitchen, making coffee when I stumbled back inside, still cradling the baby in my arms. I must have looked like a wreck because his face instantly changed when he saw me.

I could barely get the words out. “Tommy… he left him,” I said, my voice breaking. “He left his baby on our doorstep.”

Carl stared at me for a moment, processing what I had said. Then his gaze shifted to the baby, who had finally stopped crying but was still shivering in my arms. “Are you sure it’s his?” Carl asked though we both knew the answer.

A bewildered man with his coffee | Source: Midjourney

A bewildered man with his coffee | Source: Midjourney

I nodded, tears starting to well up in my eyes. “He’s Tommy’s. I know it.”

Carl exhaled deeply, rubbing his temples. “We can’t keep him, Sarah. This isn’t our responsibility,” he said, his voice calm but firm, like he was trying to reason with me before I got too attached.

A man having a serious talk with his wife | Source: Midjourney

A man having a serious talk with his wife | Source: Midjourney

“But look at him,” I pleaded, holding the baby up just a little higher as if Carl could somehow see the desperation in my nephew’s eyes the way I could. “He’s so small, and he’s cold. He needs us.”

There was a long, heavy silence. Carl looked at the baby again, then at me. I could see the conflict in his eyes — he was trying to be logical, trying to protect us from making a decision that could change everything.

But I also knew he had a soft heart. He had always been that way, even when he tried to hide it.

A man looking at a baby in the basket | Source: Midjourney

A man looking at a baby in the basket | Source: Midjourney

We didn’t argue. We didn’t talk about it much more that day. We just did what needed to be done. We kept him. We fed him, bathed him, and found clothes that would fit him. And when the sun went down that night, we rocked him to sleep in our arms.

That was 27 years ago.

A family with a young baby boy | Source: Midjourney

A family with a young baby boy | Source: Midjourney

Two days ago, he came over for dinner. He was in town for work and decided to stop by. As Michael and I sat down to dinner, I watched him closely, the way his posture was always straight, his manner of speaking careful and measured.

He was every bit the successful lawyer now. He’d just come from a case in Manhattan and told me about the long hours, the meetings, the deals he was closing. His eyes lit up when he talked about his work, and I couldn’t help but feel proud.

A young lawyer | Source: Pexels

A young lawyer | Source: Pexels

But there was a space between us, always had been. Even as we sat together at the table, sharing a meal, I could feel the distance. I had raised him and sacrificed so much, but there was a line he never crossed.

He respected me and was polite, but the love — the real love a child has for their mother — was never there. I felt it in the way he never called me “Mom,” and how he was quick to offer thanks but never affection.

A man eating | Source: Pexels

A man eating | Source: Pexels

“So, how long are you staying in town?” I asked, trying to keep the conversation light.

“Just a few days,” he said, cutting into his steak. “Got a lot on my plate right now. Big case coming up next month.”

I nodded, forcing a smile. “Well, we’re glad to have you here. Your dad and I—”

An elderly woman talking to her son | Source: Midjourney

An elderly woman talking to her son | Source: Midjourney

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. It was loud, almost urgent, pulling me out of my thoughts. Carl looked up from his seat, and Michael raised an eyebrow, confused. “Are you expecting someone?”

I shook my head, feeling a strange pit form in my stomach. “No, I’m not.”

I stood up, wiped my hands on the kitchen towel, and walked to the door. When I opened it, my heart nearly stopped.

A shocked elderly woman opening her door | Source: Midjourney

A shocked elderly woman opening her door | Source: Midjourney

It was Tommy. After 27 years, my brother stood there, looking older, thinner, and worn down by life. His hair was gray, his face gaunt. He smelled like he hadn’t bathed in days, and his clothes were dirty and tattered.

“Sis,” he said, his voice rough. “It’s been a long time.”

I couldn’t speak. I just stared at him, the memories rushing back. The morning I found his baby on my doorstep, the years of wondering if he would ever come back. And now here he was, like a ghost from the past.

An elderly man | Source: Pexels

An elderly man | Source: Pexels

Michael stepped closer, his face puzzled. “Who is this?” he asked.

My throat tightened. “This… this is your father,” I finally said.

Michael’s eyes widened, and he turned to Tommy. “You’re my father?”

Tommy stepped forward, his voice growing louder. “Yeah, I’m your dad. I had no choice, son! I had to leave you, or you would’ve died. It’s all her fault!” He jabbed his finger in my direction.

An angry elderly man on the porch | Source: Midjourney

An angry elderly man on the porch | Source: Midjourney

I felt my knees weaken. “Tommy, what are you talking about?” I stammered. “I raised him. I did what you couldn’t.”

Tommy’s face twisted with anger. “You never gave me the money I sent for his treatment! I trusted you to help, and you took everything from me. I was left with nothing!”

Michael looked between us, his expression hardening. “Is this true?” he asked, his voice low.

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Michael, no, he’s lying! He never sent me money. He left you with me, and he disappeared!”

A shocked woman on her porch | Source: Midjourney

A shocked woman on her porch | Source: Midjourney

Tommy’s voice rose. “I was trying to get back on my feet! I was working, trying to send money, but she kept it all for herself. She ruined me!”

Michael’s hands balled into fists. “Is that why you left me? Because you were trying to send money?”

Tommy nodded, his eyes wild. “I had no choice, son! I had to go. But I came back for you now. I came back to fix things.”

A black and white photo of an elderly man | Source: Pexels

A black and white photo of an elderly man | Source: Pexels

I felt the room spinning. My worst fear was playing out — losing Michael to the lies of a man who had abandoned him so long ago. “Michael, please,” I whispered. “You know me. You know I would never do that.”

For a moment, Michael was silent. Then he turned to Tommy, his voice calm but firm. “No,” he said. “I don’t believe you.”

Tommy blinked, stunned. “What?”

A man talking to his father | Source: Midjourney

A man talking to his father | Source: Midjourney

“I don’t believe you,” Michael repeated, his voice louder now. “You didn’t send money. You didn’t try to come back. You left me on her doorstep, and she raised me. She’s the only mother I’ve ever known.”

Tommy’s face crumpled. “But I’m your father—”

“You’re not my father,” Michael interrupted, his voice steady. “You’re just a man who gave up on me. She never did.”

A serious man standing with his hands crossed | Source: Midjourney

A serious man standing with his hands crossed | Source: Midjourney

Tommy stood there, speechless, as if the wind had been knocked out of him. He opened his mouth to speak but said nothing.

“You need to leave,” Michael said, his voice cold. “There’s no place for you here.”

Tommy’s shoulders slumped, and without another word, he turned and walked away. The door closed behind him, and the house fell silent.

An elderly man leaving the house | Source: Midjourney

An elderly man leaving the house | Source: Midjourney

I stood there, still trembling, unsure of what had just happened. Michael turned to me, his eyes softening for the first time in years.

“You’re my real mother,” he said, his voice quiet. “I’m sorry I never said it before, but you are. And I’m grateful for everything you’ve done. I wouldn’t be where I am today without you.”

Tears welled up in my eyes as I reached out and hugged him, holding on tight. It was something I never thought I’d hear.

An elderly woman with her son | Source: Midjourney

An elderly woman with her son | Source: Midjourney

After a long moment, Michael pulled back, a small smile on his face. “I have one more thing to tell you.”

“What is it?” I asked, wiping my tears.

He took a deep breath. “I bought a house near the ocean. It’s yours and Dad’s. I want you both to live there, to have something for yourselves. I’m covering everything.”

A house near the ocean | Source: Pexels

A house near the ocean | Source: Pexels

I stared at him, my heart swelling. “You… you did that for us?”

Michael nodded. “It’s the least I could do.”

And for the first time in a long time, I felt like I had truly found my son.

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

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