Being Yourself · Essay · Experience · Feelings · Insecurity

Don’t Measure Me In Dioptres

Dear non-bespectacled friends,
Hello there. I wear glasses, glasses a few millimeters thick, and while I don’t think of it as a disability, it makes me mighty uncomfortable if you’re judgmental and you do.
I’ve been wearing glasses ever since I was a kid, and my lenses’ power has kept increasing over the years. Each time I’ve visited the ophthalmologist,  I’ve returned with a new pair of glasses. And do I like it? No. I hate eye tests precisely for this reason. I yell, I sob, and I criticize the ways of genetics, but in the end, I get over it, accepting it as part of my life, and not giving a second thought to it.
That is, until I hear remarks like, “Look how thick her glasses are.” from people, even a few friends. The inevitable question pops up, “How much is the power of your lenses?” I think, here we go again, and mumble some figures, to see traces of incredulity/shock and pity, as if I said something ridiculous or something that alienates me from them.
I can almost see the gears whizzing in the heads of new (judgmental) acquaintances I make, as they mentally label me as someone boring or a bookworm,  by looking at my glasses; which seems completely ridiculous to me. How does a pair of glasses make one boring? Being a bookworm is something I am proud of!

Glasses are a reminder of the fact that I am not perfect, but I don’t have to be. It seems weird to make a fuss over an instrument of glass and plastic propped up on my nose. So I would appreciate it if everyone would just accept it as a part of ole’ me and focus on the more important things in life.
(Like pizza, maybe? *wink*)

Yours sincerely,
Bespectacled me

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2 thoughts on “Don’t Measure Me In Dioptres

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