The Fault In Glasses 2-Taylor L.

 The Fault In Glasses

Word Count: 498

Everyone goes through life with their own perspectives. There is a specifically tailored sense of normalcy for each individual. Growing up, my clumsy nature and inability to see, was considered normal for me. I was unaware that different realities existed for everyone else. I didn’t realize it was considered normal to see every leaf off a tree in great detail or all the individual pieces of rocks that made up concrete. Tripping and stumbling over obvious things became a habitual occurrence. However, never did I once question, my way of life needed correction.

I was about ten years old when my entire fourth grade class was shuffled into my elementary school library. Different lines were set up with strange people holding up what appeared to be magnifying glasses, gesturing to random signs. My friends and I were each divided into groups, and I watched as my peers approached the signs at a distance. I curiously observed my classmates reading off tiny little shapes, that were apparently letters. Without hesitation the girl in front of me quickly recited, “ A, E, D, F, and O” and was handed a piece of paper marked with the numbers 20-20. When it became my turn, I stared, puzzled at the vague shapes and blurs in front of me and attempted to recite what little I could remember from the previous girl. It became quickly apparent that I was blind, and that perhaps my perspective wasn’t like everyone else. I returned to class defeated that I could not decipher the cryptic pattern of blobs and shapes in front of me, unlike all my classmates. This odd experience would not become a fluke or a rare incident. Many more vision tests would occur throughout fifth and sixth grade in which I would not even attempt to try, knowing the inevitable results of failure. I continued through school and life in a regular fashion. Besides who needed perfect vision anyways?

But when my eyes became strained and I found myself squinting at the board in every class, I understood that my perspective needed a bit of adjustment. After an enlightening visit to the optometrist, I began my journey with corrective lenses. I despised the pieces of plastic that provided me with the only way to see. Contacts were no  better. Usually, my glasses are forgotten or carelessly thrown into my backpack, despite the fact that they serve as my literal eyes. The state of California requires me to wear them to drive though, and sometimes it’s bothersome to take pictures of menus and boards to zoom in. Glasses have somehow wiggled their way into my life as some “corrective” feature, allowing me to see.

Glasses will never be the correct answer though. I have astigmatism and poor eyesight, something I’ve come to accept. It’s always been normal for me to not see clearly, and even with opportunities to “correct” that, and much to the confusion of others, glasses are faulted. They will never fit my perspective.