Jimmy Nash “I Can See Clearly Now”
Ahh, to see. For those who’ve never needed assistance and/or tools to do so clearly, seeing just seems a given. You open your eyes and the world presents itself to you. However, if you’ve ever opened your eyes only to see the world out of focus, I feel your pain. Now, I recognize that having whatever bad eye sight I have is better than having none at all but for the purposes of complaining, I am only comparing those in need of contacts and/or glasses to those who’ve only considered these options to cosmetically change the color of their eyes or to “look smarter.”
I’ve had glasses since age 6. Yep, I was a scrawny, thumb-sucking, know-it-all first grader with glasses. (Very little has changed since then sadly…) At that age, glasses didn’t mean much else than something you had to be careful with because mom would get really upset when you broke them. Of course, you didn’t understand why. You just went back to the doctor and got more. (Ah, the ignorance/innocence of youth.) I don’t believe I ever really liked my glasses. I just don’t think they began to bother me until middle school/junior high.
As hormones started to kick in and the pretty girls were identified (for at least the next 10 years), being scrawny and boyish was bad enough. But I had to wear these thick plastic glasses too?! They were just setting me up for social failure. Beauties never wear glasses. You don’t see singers, actresses or models with glasses unless they’re playing the part of the nerdy and the less attractive. Glasses were like having braces, being flat-chested and having short hair. You just didn’t want that. Glasses did not equal attractive.
When my mother told me I’d have to get braces in 8th grade, I almost cried. Well, could I at least get contacts before? The last thing I wanted to happen was to look like a nerdy boy with crooked teeth that needed to be fixed. Now, of course, I was far from the only one going through this helplessly awkward phase. But at age 12/13, other people’s awkward phases don’t make you feel better. Most people don’t seem to adopt the mean “at least I look better than them” mentality until they’re further into their teenage/early 20 years. Thinking I was just being ridiculous, my mother didn’t want to deal with costs and issues associated with contacts so I ended up not getting them until I started working at Sears my senior year of high school and could afford them myself.
To not avoid the cliché, contacts opened my eyes to a whole new world. Nothing looked better with contacts than it did with glasses except for my reflection. There was a sense of beauty (or at least less ugliness) and freedom. In my clouded, naive teenage brain, glasses made me unattractive. Contacts at least helped to level the playing field. I could now really play with makeup, eyeshadows, eyeliners, mascaras. I could dress up my face. They didn’t do anything for the acne or other flaws but at least the glasses were finally gone. And with the braces having been removed the year before, I felt I was starting to look more like a young lady and less like a slightly more feminine Steve Urkel. (No, seriously. Urkelina was my nickname on the junior high volleyball team. At the time, no one could think of Myrtle – the name of Steve’s southern belle cousin who came to visit a few times.)
Fast forward 8 years and not much has changed. Aside from family and my roommate, it’s rare that anyone see me in my glasses. (In fact, if you see me in glasses, it generally signals it was a rough morning and will probably not be a very good day so stay of my way as much as possible. If it’s glasses AND my hair is tied back/wrapped up, stay clear. I’m probably either sick or exhausted.) Contacts and the insecurities tied to years of glasses are still very much a part of my identity. I still believe I look better in contacts and usually have at least a bit of eye makeup on. Luckily, I don’t really wear the bases, foundations, creams, powders and the like. Genetics and the dermatologist have helped me maintain relatively clear, consistent skin. But those eyes are a different story.
While I like to fancy myself rather intelligent, I don’t want to look like a nerd, just maybe sound like one at times. Over the last two years, I’ve started to reconsider my opinion of glasses and me in them. As I’m trying to force myself to wear these $400 pair of glasses more often than between my bed and the bathroom where my contacts are in the morning and the bathroom to my bed at night, I still find myself preferring the image of a glasses-less me. Ideally, I’d love to get lasik surgery. But last year my optometrist quoted me around $6,000 for the procedure. Are my eyes and vanity worth six grand? Yes. I just don’t have the available funds. Trust, as soon as I do, I’ll happily toss out my glasses, glasses cases, lens cleaning clothes, lens cleaning spray, contacts, contact cases and cleaning solution bottles, and stare blindly into the light. Only to open them later seeing the world the way it’s meant to be seen – clearly. I simply can’t imagine waking up in the morning and being able to see. It must feel like a miracle. (And I don’t care how overly dramatic that might sound. 🙂 )
Realizing it’s time to schedule her annual eye exam,
Jo’van
The Truth: According to Jo'van 