Personal Narrative: My Eyes FREAK Me Out

Unlike Superman, the first thing I do in the morning is put on my glasses. My black, square framed, -3.50 in my left eye and -3.75 in the left, glasses express who I am. My glasses are apart of me. While most people found wearing glasses a burden or a curse, I found it freeing. I remember my first day of kindergarten. I was introduced to the class as “Mariana, the girl who only speaks Spanish”. I was often excluded from the rest of my classmates and spent time on the playground alone. I didn’t know who I was or what I was destined to be. I tried so hard to fit in but I just couldn’t get anyone to notice me. One morning I came home and told my mother I was having trouble seeing. I was given my first pair of glasses at the age of 9 and I felt

As my son played in his skates trying to do his special trick he tripped and hurt his hand. He was crying hysterically, so we rushed him to the emergency room, and as soon as we saw the doctor he ordered some x-rays. He kept on crying and he only wanted to be with his mother. The radiology technician approached him really nicely, and made a comment about his Lego T-shirt he was wearing. She started talking to him and explained to him that she was going to be taking some different pictures of his hand, so the doctor can see and make his hand feel better. My son wanted to know everything she explained how the machines worked, so he was a little more calm knowing the process. As the radiologic technologist took some x-rays and told him he was

When she came in nick was telling her what happened, and she got a wash cloth wet and cleaned the blood off my face, and told me to hold it to my eye. She was panicking because she didn’t know what to do. Finally, she decided to call mom and dad I sat in the living room until they came home. They couldn’t get home right away so I had to wait until around 4:30 when they got off work. I was calm until they walked in, I don’t know why but I just was. I remember sitting there in the chair, my mom and dad looking at my eye. My mom said that I needed to go to the hospital and get stiches but my dad said that I didn’t need them. I didn’t go to the hospital, but my mom still thinks that I needed to

As mother and I walked out of the DMV I looked at her in disappointment. I had been there since 6 that morning for nothing. I was unaware that I needed corrective lenses until that day when I didn’t pass the vision requirements in order to take my driver’s test. I was upset and didn’t want anyone to know that I needed glasses to drive. I didn 't really want to hear what my mom had to say but I knew she would say something or have questions to ask. She asked why I didn’t tell her I needed glasses and my response was “I didn’t know I needed them.” At this moment I knew getting my license would be a challenge. I needed glasses and I was worried I wouldn’t do good on my driver’s test.

When I was three years old, I got my first pair of glasses. Convinced that I could see, I reluctantly went to the optometrist with my mom, and did my best to be as uncooperative as possible. This continued until the optometrist brought out a shiny blue ring and said that I could have it if I did well on all of my tests. I was determined to get the ring. At the optometrist, they provide pictures for young children to identify, in place of letters. My mother tells me that I said that an airplane was a birthday cake. Needless to say, I needed glasses, badly. Later that week, I went home with a brand new pair of pink circular glasses. When I got home I was shocked to learn that there were lines in the grass. Now it is fourteen years later, and

One night, we were sitting in the living room together as a family. Though the exact details of this moment seem vague to me, I distinctly remember being asked about my eyesight. While a clear problem existed, I dissented their opinions with words of disavowal.

I know the feeling of being different and not being like everyone else. Shawn has CP which makes it so he can’t walk or talk and can’t do everything other kids can do. I know how he feels because when I was born I was born with Glaucoma and HPV (Hyper Persistent Vitreous) which makes it so I my left eye is weaker and smaller than the other and it clouds the eye and makes it hard to eye. Due to my eye problem it limits the stuff I can do and how I do stuff that normal people do. It doesn’t really hold me back on major things that people do just some things that some kids do I can’t do because there is a risk of something happening and making the eye worse or damaging the other eye. If my other eye were to get damaged I would be

When I was 14 years old, I was diagnosed with a degenerative eye disease called Keratoconus. Keratoconus is a condition in which the cornea becomes thin and develops a cone-like shape. When you’re a 14-year-old boy who doesn’t have a care in the world, an eye disease would probably be the last thing in the world you’d be worried about. But to my mom, it was as if all hell was let loose. When she found out that I had Keratoconus, she was very concerned. She immediately admitted me into a program; supposedly one of the best in the world for my eye disease. At first, I was very worried, knowing that my mom didn’t have a lot of money to spare because of financial problems, but she told me not to worry. While I was in the program, I was given three

His eyes were hazel suns, freckles like a meadow yearning to meet their light. At 3 A.M. his voice still resounded with its habit of sounding like the first low rumbles of thunder before a perfect storm. Thin lips painted with the softest shade of watermelon pink, eyes meeting mine, he spoke about his family; how everyone knew how to play cards. Those thick eyebrows formed numerous expressions as he spoke, knitting mental images of his legally blind grandmother ruling over everyone at the poker table. Even though the space between us was minimal, he reached to thumb over my small fingers with his larger, more tanned ones. I thought to myself, “His hands have become another layer of skin to me, without them touching mine I feel naked”. The

​My eyes are hunting. I'm camouflaged in a huge group of people, who don’t have a career in their sights yet, meanwhile, I stay ready. Ready for my prey to come across, so I can take a shot.

Children are very interesting creatures, and continue to amaze adult’s everyday by their development. It continually inspires adults to keep their houses safer and to watch the children to see progress in their mental and physical development. In fact, younger kids have amazing brains and learn very quickly as their bodies continue to development. While it may be a surprise by how smart a child is, it is also a surprise to some adults the things these children do not actually understand. Even though a subject may be explained to a child numerous times, there is no guarantee that the child will accurately retain the information, if at all. Every child at one point or another through their life will misinterpret something their parents say or

I’ve had severe myopia (nearsightedness) and astigmatism all my life, but I didn’t know it until midway through 2nd grade. I have roughly 20/400 uncorrected vision, meaning that at 20 feet away words have to be 20 times bigger. Without glasses, pretty much everything that isn’t within 10” of my face is out of focus. However, I didn’t notice that anything was wrong with me until the 1st grade, when I could barely read the board from the front of the room when everyone else was fine. In 2nd grade, the school referred me to an optometrist and I got my first pair of glasses: purple wire, Barbie-brand frames that I still own today. Before that I didn’t know that anything was wrong, but my parents and teachers definitely did (they just didn’t know what).

When I was 10 years old my older sister had a horrible accident. My grandparents, my sisters, and I were living in El Salvador. One day we were getting ready to go church, but my younger sister asked my older sister if she could help her because she wanted to use a pair of shoes that were detached from the sole, and those shoes needed a crazy glue cement. First my older sister tried to help her, but when she pressed the tube, nothing came out after that my older sister wanted to help her. Then she used a needle to puncture the tube, but as soon as she punctured the tube, she squeezed it; during this short time the crazy glue got into her right eye, and she started to scream, cry, and she was not able to open her

I made it all the way through eighth grade and even freshman year getting straight A’s, but still having a hard time hearing people in my everyday life. Then came sophomore year, at age 16. And this was by far the most emotional year I faced during high school. Still having a very difficult time hearing, I still put up with it and dealt with it until one day in class my hearing in my right ear almost went all the way out and I could hear nothing. I instantly stood up and ran outside freaking out wondering what happened and what I should do. So I called my mom, crying, and trying to talk to her and tell her what is going on. All I remember from that day is talking to her and saying, “Mom, something isn’t right, something just doesn’t feel right.” We instantly drove to the hospital where, I took my third hearing test. This time things were different, my mom was in the room. Going through the same steps like always, I began to remember the order of the operation, the beeps, the word repetitions, and the results. So I got through the beeps which was very difficult, but the worst was yet to come. That part of the test where the doctor would say completely random words and have me repeat them to her. This wasn’t the hard part for me, the hard part was seeing my mom cry as she

My surgery was schedule a month away and it would interfere with my eighth and ninth grade year. We went over the procedures for my surgery I was told that I would have to be in a wheel chair for six months and the only way they could do surgery was on one foot at a time. As the time got closer and closer to surgery I was hysterical and didn’t know what to think or what would happen while I was in surgery. I arrived at the hospital at five a.m. I couldn’t eat or drink anything before. It was time for them to start the surgery, the doctors stuck IV’s in both of my arms and told me I had to go they were ready. They rolled me out of the room, a million thoughts were going through my mind and I didn’t want to do the surgery anymore. My mom and dad told me everything was going to be all right but, I wasn’t sure anymore.